Bittersweet Secret
by dstrekharrylover
Summary: Roxanne Drew becomes pregnant by Barnabas and attempts to conceal it from him and his family as well as her own.


**_Bittersweet Secret_**  
_**Alternate 1840 RT DS story  
By JM Lane**_

Roxanne Drew had a secret. A secret which made her both happy and sad. She had recently discovered that she was pregnant—the result of the one tenderly passionate night she had shared with her beloved, Barnabas Collins, before learning that he was married. She was happy to be carrying his child, and would be the best mother she knew how to be…but there were several problems.

First off, as mentioned before, her loved one was married. Unhappily, to be sure, but married nonetheless…and Roxanne knew as well as she knew her own name that his wife, Valerie–a jealous and paranoid, beautiful but dangerous woman–would never release him. Not even if she knew about Roxanne's pregnancy, and she must never know. If she did, she was likely to do something to either make her lose the baby or take it away from her.

Either way, Roxanne didn't want to think of the repercussions. All she was certain of was that it would be slow and painful…and best of all, played out in front of Barnabas, while Valerie (aka Angelique), his witch-wife, watched with sadistic pleasure. Barnabas must also never know—at least not immediately—even though she knew that he would have been ecstatic at the knowledge that he was to become a father, that the star-crossed love he and Roxanne had shared had borne fruit. She could have given him such love and happiness, such passion…if it had only been allowed!

But worst of all was the stigma of unwed pregnancy, particularly when the girl involved had become pregnant by a partner who was already married, whatever the relationship between husband and wife. _Oh, Barnabas, my love,_ Roxanne lamented, resting a hand on her still-flat belly, where even now, a six-week embryo was growing and developing. _How I wish this was your hand on my belly, that you could be holding me and telling me how much you love me and our child…but most of all, that you could be my husband and I could be your wife. _Roxanne's sea-green eyes filled with tears. _Oh, how I miss you, my darling!_

Roxanne had no idea how she would ever be able to conceal her pregnancy, but somehow she must. From not only Barnabas, but her father and sister Samantha…everyone. Possibly the only person she could trust would be Julia, Barnabas' sister, who was a doctor. Roxanne knew that Julia was every bit as devoted to her brother as he was to her; perhaps (if only for that reason), she would help Roxanne conceal her pregnancy for as long as necessary.

Meanwhile, she had to go find Julia and speak privately with her, see what they could come up with.

Heaven knew that neither Barnabas nor Roxanne had ever meant for something like this to happen—but their attraction had been intense and immediate, so strong as to be irresistible. Both had felt such overwhelming love and desire that they had been unable to resist. Most importantly, she had been a virgin, her greatest desire to give herself completely to the man she loved so desperately, with all the hunger and intensity of first love, which it was…but also with the longevity of eternal love, which it also was. He was everything she'd ever wanted, for now and all time.

It had seemed like an eternity from the moment they'd first met, in the garden outside Collinwood, where she was staying with her sister while her father was away, to the time Barnabas had come to her in her bedroom that evening. She had loved Barnabas Collins from the first moment she'd ever spoken to him, and would love him as long as she lived…and the child she now carried was living proof of that love.

She loved everything about him: his rich, velvety voice with its hint of a British accent; his soft, sable-brown eyes; his thick, silky black hair; his strong but gentle arms and hands; his warm, sweet lips…and his incredible body which had given her ecstasy such as she had never known. She smiled as she recalled his murmuring her name so tenderly and crooning romantic yet erotic words of love in her ear as he had kissed, caressed and made passionate love to her. The only lover she had ever had, and the only lover she would ever want.

Why must things be so complicated? Why couldn't two people in love simply be together if they so chose? Surely there could be no love between Barnabas and Valerie. As far as Roxanne could tell, it was strictly a marriage of convenience, that she had blackmailed him into living with her again, since her impression was that they were estranged and had been for some time. Julia had told her that Valerie had also forced Barnabas to break off his affair with her, or else she would do something to harm her…and even as painful as it had been for him to do so, he could never risk that.

She also knew that no matter what, she could never marry that detestable beast, Lamar Trask…not if he were the last man on Earth! And she would threaten suicide if either he or her father—or even Samantha, for that matter—tried to force the issue. She knew her father, J. Leonard Drew, loved her and meant well, but seemed to be too dazzled by the Trask name, Lamar's smooth talk and impeccable acting to think straight…but most of all by the considerable Trask fortune, which Lamar had inherited upon his father's death. It was so unfortunate that parents nowadays could be, and were, so often taken in by money, position, a prominent name or a flawless acting job.

She hated to think of how many had experienced unhappiness, even agony and horror of both a physical and emotional nature because they had been forced into a loveless marriage for the sake of money, politics or position. She knew just how they felt, and vowed that it was never going to happen to her, no matter what she had to do. Psychological blindness was the worst kind, the kind which prevented people from seeing others as they really were. She was convinced that it was some kind of mental block against an unpleasant truth.

Not to say that parents were always wrong…but neither were they always right. Unlike the attitude of some of her friends, Roxanne had never subscribed to the notion that a parent's word was the next thing to God's. She was willing to submit her will and destiny to Him, but parents were Human and therefore imperfect, just as capable of errors in judgment…sometimes fatal ones, ones which affected the course of their children's lives and all-too-often, ruined them for all time.

God willing, she would get the opportunity to teach her child the correct way of thinking. In the meantime, she would stand firm in her resolve not to marry Lamar Trask…not when there was someone who truly loved her for herself. Besides, Lamar wouldn't want her if he knew she was carrying another man's child. At the very least, she would be considered "damaged goods" and therefore unworthy of being wife to him—which suited her just fine.

If it hadn't been for Trask's penchant for conclusion-jumping and consorting with questionable people, Roxanne would have told him flat-out about the baby and let the chips fall where they may…but because of this, she dared not. There was not only herself but her child and Barnabas to consider, not to mention her family—her father, brother and sister...the consequences to them if her pregnancy was discovered and the fact of her scandalous affair with a married man became public knowledge, particularly in her unwed state.

But the first order of business was to see Julia and take her into her confidence, then hopefully the older woman could suggest the best thing to do, how to handle this touchy situation with the least possible amount of emotional fallout for everyone concerned.

Roxanne found Julia in her room, getting ready for bed. The older woman was surprised to answer a knock at her door and find her "brother's" paramour standing there. What possible reason could Roxanne have for being here at this hour (2:30 a.m.)? What was so urgent that she had to come late at night, making sure that no one was likely to disturb them? Even as much as she liked the girl, no matter how obvious it was that she and Barnabas were deeply in love, it didn't make it any easier for Julia to know that even as much as she herself loved Barnabas, his affection for her, as great as it was, _was_ only that of a brother for a sister. She simply wasn't young or beautiful enough to compete with other women for his attention, romantically speaking.

However much it hurt to see him romance Roxanne and other women when she wanted so much for it to be her, Julia knew that it would hurt infinitely more to leave this time and be without him...and she cared more for Barnabas' happiness than her own. So she put on her best professional mask and smiled at her unexpected visitor, even though both were in their nightgowns, robes and slippers, their hair down; Roxanne's auburn mane was long and wavy, flowing well past her shoulders, and Julia's was in a long braid which hung halfway down her back.

Julia could see part of Roxanne's nightgown, which was a pale blue, long, silky and liberally trimmed with lace, the neckline dipping low enough to show cleavage. Her robe matched the nightgown, if only in color and texture; her slippers were high heels trimmed with gold and rhinestones, while her own were slip-on bootee-type things; her nightgown was flannel and up to her chin, even though it had blue flowers on a white background with a ruffle down the front, around her neck, on the sleeve cuffs and around her ankles. She could just picture the look on Barnabas' face if he could see them now…

But she pushed the unhappy thought aside and said, "Roxanne! What brings you here at this hour?"

"I have a problem. Uh…may I call you 'Dr. Collins' or 'Julia'?"

"What kind of problem?" Julia asked. "And it doesn't make any difference what you call me. Whatever's most comfortable for you, my dear."

"A very personal one, I'm afraid," Roxanne confessed quietly. "It—concerns Barnabas."

Julia closed her eyes in pain for a moment before replying, visibly pulling herself together and hoping Roxanne hadn't seen it. "What about Barnabas?"

"I…assume you know that I'm—in love with him," she went on.

"And he with you," Julia finished. "I know how much it's tearing him apart to be separated from you, but he has no choice. He cannot take the chance of Valerie harming you."

"I know…and I understand why he cannot come see me or be with me—but it doesn't make it any easier to be without him." Roxanne's voice was laced with both great love and equally great sorrow. "I miss him so much, Julia. I miss his touch, his kiss, his arms around me…" Her eyes again filled with tears and threatened to overflow.

Julia's compassion won out over her own pain and bitterness, and she gathered the despondent young woman into her arms, stroking her hair soothingly, brushing her tears away and crooning comforting, reassuring words, much as a mother would do with a daughter. In fact, Julia was only a relative handful of years away from being old enough to be Roxanne's mother. She had no idea how long she stood there holding Roxanne in her arms, but suddenly it didn't matter. She must do all she could to help others, even if she couldn't help herself.

But she eventually did release the younger woman, handing her one of her own hankies, which was plain white, but trimmed with lace and exuding a faint rose scent as Roxanne stood there composing herself enough so she could continue with her story. Once Julia was certain that Roxanne was all right again, she spoke gently to her. "What about Barnabas?"

Roxanne's lips quivered and she winced in pain, but she was able to speak. "He…came to my bedroom one night a few weeks ago, and we—" She broke off abruptly, but Julia had already deduced what the younger woman had not said.

"He…made love to you," Julia returned softly. "Not surprising. My—brother is a very passionate man. He feels things very deeply…all too deeply for his own good sometimes, I'm afraid. So what are you trying to say?"

Roxanne squared her slender shoulders and swallowed hard; what she had to say would not be easy, but it had to be said. "I—missed my last period," she explained painfully. "I'm almost three weeks late, and I've always been as regular as clockwork."

"Then you're pregnant," Julia deduced.

Roxanne nodded. "I believe so, although I'm not completely sure. But I have all the symptoms—morning sickness, bloating, weight gain, things like that. That's why I need you to examine me to find out exactly how far along I am."

"I could do that," Julia told her. "But what do you intend to do once the pregnancy is confirmed? Tell Barnabas, go away until after the baby is born? What?"

"Oh no," Roxanne declared fearfully. "Even as much as I wish it were possible, I could never tell him and risk putting any of our lives in danger…his or the baby's, much less my own. Valerie must never know."

Julia could just picture Valerie's (aka Angelique's) reaction if she ever discovered that Roxanne was pregnant with Barnabas' child. At the very least, she would take the child away from her once it had been born, and Roxanne couldn't bear that. The baby would be the only thing she had left of Barnabas and the love they had shared other than beautiful, bittersweet memories of their tenderly passionate night together. Roxanne would never give up the only tangible thing she had left of Barnabas. Never, never, _never! _Valerie would have to kill her first.

It was roughly half an hour later that Julia completed her gynecological examination of Roxanne. "You're right," she confirmed. "Roughly six weeks along. Was that one night the only time that you and Barnabas were…together?"

"Yes," Roxanne revealed.

"Have you decided what you're going to do yet?" Julia wondered.

"I can't stay with Samantha. That's way too close to Barnabas for either our comfort or safety. What I think I'll do is go stay with my brother Randall in New York. He's a lawyer and recently bought a nice roomy house; he'll take good care of me, see that I'm properly looked after."

"Do you intend to tell _him_ the truth?"

Roxanne nodded reluctantly. "I'll have to—but you must not tell either Samantha or Barnabas where I am. I don't want them hurt…or trying to come after me."

"When will you leave?" asked Julia.

"As soon as I can make the arrangements," Roxanne told her. "I'll wire Randall that I'm coming so he can get things ready for me, buy a one-way train ticket and get my trunks packed. I'll also write _you_, Julia, and enclose a personal note to Barnabas in each letter. Please see that only he gets it. You can also keep Samantha and my father updated on my status…not to mention keep me updated on how Barnabas is doing."

"I will," Julia assured her. "May I at least tell Barnabas that you will be writing him through me—and vice versa?"

Roxanne nodded with a sad smile. "What do you plan to tell him regarding where and why I've gone? I feel sure that he's going to ask, if not demand to know."

"That you went to visit your brother for a while, but that as your doctor, I'm not at liberty to say just where or why," Julia decided. "Barnabas is very persistent, but I think I can handle him—especially when I tell him that you told me it was best for him if he didn't know where you were, at least for the time being. I think I'll probably tell your sister and father that, too. What they don't know can't incriminate them."

After a pregnant silence, the women's eyes met in mutual love and concern for Barnabas Collins. "Take care of him, Julia. See to it that he's as happy as possible."

"You know it," the older woman declared. "Which reminds me…do you intend to come back after the baby's born or make your home in New York with your brother and your child?"

"I—haven't decided yet," Roxanne informed her. "I hope so, but it depends on what the circumstances are when the time comes."

"Let me know when you're leaving so that you may be able to give me any last messages you may have for Barnabas, and so that I may give you some last-minute advice," Julia entreated.

"Don't worry, I will—if only for his sake," Roxanne assured Julia. The younger woman turned for the door and hesitated there, one hand on the knob. "For the moment, simply tell Barnabas that I love him and will be in touch with him as soon as I'm settled."

Julia smiled and nodded. "Good night, my dear. Good luck, and take care."

"You, too. Thank you for your help and understanding. I can see why Barnabas is so… devoted to you. Every sister should have a brother like him."

Julia smiled and nodded again in Roxanne's direction even as a sharp pain stabbed through her heart at the mention of Barnabas' name…then after the other woman departed, she squared her shoulders and marched to bed after repacking her bag and turning off her bedside oil lamp. She had done all she could for Roxanne; now she would have to deal with Barnabas—and she didn't relish the thought. Particularly if he discovered that Roxanne was gone, and especially if he ever learned just where or _why _she had gone.

Julia was right. Barnabas did find out, and did demand to know where Roxanne had gone and why. As she had surmised, she'd had to hand out the explanation she'd originally devised…but even though Samantha, Roxanne's sister, and their father accepted it more-or-less readily, Barnabas did not. In fact, she was sure she would have to tranquilize him before she could tell him that Roxanne fully intended to get in touch with him ASAP.

"Why did she leave in the first place?" he demanded, only slightly mollified.

"As her doctor, I cannot tell you that without violating my confidentiality oath," Julia told him patiently. "If it would make you feel any better, her father and sister don't know exactly why or where she's gone, either."

He sighed exasperatedly. "Did she leave any message for me?"

"Oh yes, I almost forgot." Julia reached into her dress pocket and brought out the note Roxanne had given her for Barnabas. He opened it, tears misting his eyes as he read.

My Beloved Barnabas…

I am sorry to leave so suddenly without explaining why, but I assure you that we will not lose touch. Julia has agreed to forward my letters to you. I wish I could tell you where I'm going to be, but right now it's best that you remain unaware of this fact. Please be assured that it hurt me deeply to leave you behind, my darling…but we will still be able to share our love through our letters.

It won't be the same as being together physically, but it is the best we can expect for the time being. Believe me, you remain forever in my heart, never far from my thoughts. I will write again as soon as I'm settled. I already miss you almost unbearably. Take care, my precious love, and try to be happy, if only for my sake.

All my love,

Your Roxanne

Barnabas remained silent the whole time he was reading Roxanne's note, not even looking up at Julia until he was finished—and when he did, his voice was so soft as to be almost inaudible. To hide as much emotion as possible, Julia suspected, although she didn't call him on it.

"Does she intend to return to Collinsport or remain where she's going?" he wondered.

"She hopes to be able to return, but only if the circumstances are favorable," Julia explained.

"I wish she could have at least told me _where _she was going, if not why," Barnabas lamented.

"I think she didn't because she didn't want you coming after her and attempting to talk her into coming back…didn't want you to risk Valerie's wrath if she should find out. So even as difficult as this must be for both of you, you must accept that she's simply looking out for you, trying to spare you any unnecessary grief." _Just_ a_s I would,_ Julia added mentally. _Barnabas, why can you not see that? Why must you be so stubbornly blind?_

Barnabas reluctantly nodded but didn't deny Julia's statements. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course," Julia replied.

"But that doesn't mean I have to like the idea," he added.

"No one expects you to, Barnabas, least of all me," Julia assured him. "But for now, it's necessary, and we'll simply have to live with it."

His lips twisted wryly but he didn't argue. "Then you must keep me informed as to how often you hear from her."

"Don't worry, Barnabas. If we're careful, everything should work out."

"One can but hope," he returned morosely. "And there is little hope for me."

"Don't talk like that," Julia admonished. "As long as there's life—and someone who loves you—there's _always_ hope." She hoped that Barnabas would make the connection, that it was herself, not only Roxanne, that she was referring to…but in his present state of mind, it would not surprise her if Roxanne was the only one he could think about.

Barnabas was silent for a moment, then moved over to Julia and embraced her. For one insane moment she thought he would actually kiss her, but all he did was hug her. "Thank you, Julia. I don't know what I would do without you."

"No need to thank me. What are friends for?"

"Yes, there _is_ a 'need', Julia. Who else would endure as much as you have for me and still remain my friend?" He released her, then lifted her face to his. "I do not deserve you, Julia, any more than I deserve the love of a woman like Roxanne."

_Woman? _Julia thought. _She is barely more than a child; almost young enough to be my daughter. As for you—_She broke off in her mind. _If she had any idea whatsoever what you are or how old you truly are, she would… _She left the thought unfinished, preferring not to put it into words, even mental words.

No matter how much she loved Barnabas, Julia knew it wasn't her place to dictate to him, particularly in his private life, even if he acted like he needed a keeper sometimes—particularly when his hormones were working overtime, like now. At times like this, his innate wisdom and intelligence always seemed to desert him. _It's not really his fault, _Julia told herself. _He's been so lonely for so long, that when someone comes along who shows him affection and loyalty, he naturally latches onto them like a lifeline and cannot bear to let them go._

He was also a prisoner of his hormones; Julia knew that there was nothing he could do about that, even if he'd wanted to. She only wished that just once, some of his passion could have been directed toward _her_. Damn, but he was slow on the uptake! What was it going to take to bring him to realization? And how could someone ordinarily so intelligent be so stupidly blind to what was right before them…to what had _been_ before them all along?

Not that she consciously meant to denigrate Roxanne, even in her own mind. As Barnabas himself had once said, one could not love at will. Love had to be freely given; otherwise one could inadvertently drive the object of their love further away, even alienate them—and however painful it was for Julia to see her beloved in love with someone else, much less have the paramour carrying his child, someone not herself—the last thing she wanted was to lose what she _did_ have with him: a close friendship. If he was meant to be with Roxanne, then it was her duty to help facilitate that relationship in any and every way she could, whatever the emotional cost to herself.

Roxanne was met at Grand Central, the New York train station, by her brother Randall, a noted lawyer in the area. After helping her off the train, the siblings affectionately embraced.

"Roxy, what are you doing here? Why do you need to stay with me? I just received your telegram yesterday afternoon, and came directly here after closing my office to pick you up."

"Something's happened," was all Roxanne would say. "All I can tell you right now is that it's something I cannot discuss with you until we're alone." She did not speak again until they had reached his home and had sent the carriage and coachman away.

Randall carried Roxanne's three trunks to the door while she waited for him on the porch, then once they were inside and the door closed and locked behind them, Randall Drew turned to his younger sister, sitting on a soft chair nearby. His look upon her was a mixture of question, concern and demand.

"I'll get us each some tea," he told her. "But when I come back, I want the full story, you understand?"

Roxanne nodded, beginning to think of what she needed to say and how best to phrase it in the time her brother was ordering their tea from Emma, his motherly-looking housekeeper. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but she had to do it if she expected him to help her.

Randall soon returned with the porcelain teapot on a tray, accompanied by two steaming cups of tea on saucers, the sugar and cream containers and spoons. There were even some tea cakes, which Roxanne ordinarily enjoyed, but her stomach was too queasy from morning sickness to eat anything right now. She was taking a chance as it was, just having tea.

A short time later, the young lawyer had settled himself nearby, in his own favorite chair, teacup in one hand and the saucer in the other. He gave his sister a penetrating look as he stirred a teaspoon of cream into his tea, then set the spoon onto the tray sitting on the table next to the chair. Roxanne knew that confession time had come.

"Well…it all began when I met a wonderful man," she confessed. "We met while I was walking in the garden at Collinwood while staying with Samantha, since Father was away. He told me he was Quentin Collins' cousin from England, Barnabas. He's at least fifteen to twenty years older than me, but we were strongly, instantly attracted to each other—so strongly, in fact, that it was almost irresistible. In addition, he came to me in my room that night around ten; he said he could stay away no longer—that he kept seeing my face and hearing my voice in his mind…but most of all, that he wanted to love me as no one else ever had…and to forgive him for his weakness, since he couldn't stop himself. The next thing I knew, his arms were around me and we were kissing passionately…then after a while, he swept me off my feet and into his arms, carrying me to my bed and placing me on it before joining me there. I think you can guess what happened next…" Her voice trailed off as she was unable to control a deep blush.

"But you're a— You've never…" Randall Drew began, unable to finish his sentences.

"Not until now," Roxanne confessed. "It was shortly after that night that I learned he was married, albeit unhappily, which was must have been one reason he was seeking love outside of his marriage. However, his wife soon found out about us and blackmailed him into living with her again—and ordered him to break off his affair with me, or else she would harm me in some way. Barnabas couldn't risk that, so he had to give in. But that isn't all…" Again, the young woman's voice trailed off. "I went to the doctor shortly before I left," she began again. "And she said—"

"She?" Randall broke in.

"Barnabas' sister Julia is a doctor. I had her examine me," Roxanne explained.

"Go on; what did she say?" her brother prompted.

"That I…I'm pregnant," Roxanne finally confessed.

There was stunned silence for a time, then Randall Drew made himself speak again. "Oh, my God. Is _that _why you came to me?"

"Yes."

"Does…Barnabas know that you're carrying his child?"

Roxanne shook her head. "Julia and I agreed that it was best not to tell him, in order not to give Valerie—his wife—any ammunition against him. We also did it so both the baby and I will be protected. If Valerie found out, she might still try to make me lose it or take it away from me…and I will _not_ allow _anyone_ to do that. They'll have to kill me first!"

Randall held up a hand after setting his cup and saucer aside. "Whoa, there! Peace, Roxy. No one's going to take your baby. I won't let them. Then you intend to stay with me until the baby is born?"

"And after, too, if possible," Roxanne added.

"So you don't plan on returning to Collinsport?" Randall inquired, picking up his cup and taking another swallow of tea before setting it down again.

"Not for the foreseeable future, at any rate," Roxanne confirmed. "And certainly not until Julia and I both deem it safe to do so."

"How do you feel right now?"

"Physically or emotionally?" Roxanne asked, pain and bitterness edging her voice.

"Both, if you don't mind," Randall returned gently, sensing his sister's emotional turmoil at having been forced to leave behind her lover and the father of her unborn child. "But first, do either Father or Samantha know where you are and why you left Collinsport?"

"No; we deemed it best not to tell them, either," Roxanne informed him.

"One more question, if I may. Do you _ever_ intend to tell Barnabas or our family about the baby?"

"As I said, as soon as we deem it safe. Right now, it's far too much of a risk."

"To get back to the other questions—how do you feel emotionally and physically about this whole situation?" Randall finally asked.

Roxanne gave him a hard look and her eyes narrowed, but she decided to give him the truth. "Physically, I'm tired; my stomach is queasy; I feel bloated and I have a headache. Emotionally, I'm sad, angry, and lonely. I miss Barnabas almost unbearably. What _else_ do you want me to dredge up from the depths of my soul?"

"I'm sorry, Sis. I didn't mean to pressure you," Randall apologized. "I can imagine how you must hurt right now."

" 'Hurt' doesn't _begin_ to cover it," Roxanne countered. "But I've lived with it before; I can do it again. And in case you're wondering, yes, I intend to write Barnabas and keep in touch with him. Julia has promised to deliver them to him for me—and vice versa."

"Won't that be dangerous as well? What if his wife finds out or intercepts one of the letters from either of you?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Roxanne said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go to bed after I have a hot bath…and we'll make some concrete plans for my future after I get up in the morning. "

"Whatever you say," Randall Drew conceded, not wanting to aggravate his sister's mood any further than he already had. "Do you need help? I can send Mrs. McElroy."

"No," Roxanne told him, giving her a weary but affectionate smile. "I'll be fine."

He escorted her to her room, where her trunks had been placed, and a roaring fire was going in the room to take the chill off of it. An oil lamp was set by the bed. After her brother left, Roxanne changed into her robe and slippers, carrying her toiletries and nightgown into the washroom with her, including the perfume Barnabas had said he liked so much.

_Barnabas. _Roxanne's heart ached and her eyes filled at the thought of him as she lay in bed in her darkened room. _Are you thinking of me as I think of you, yearn for me as I yearn for you? How I wish I could tell you about our baby…and how I wonder what our child will be, a boy or a girl? What will I decide to name him or her? _Roxanne put her hand on her belly again, pretending it was her lover's hand resting there.

She then lifted her nightgown above her breasts so that her body was exposed and began to rub and knead her nipples until they became hard and erect with excitement. She closed her eyes and pretended it was Barnabas' lips gently sucking her breasts during their lovemaking. She gasped and squirmed at the pleasurable sensation as her nipples tightened further…then while one hand continued to knead one nipple, the other was wandering south until it reached the red- gold triangle between her slender legs. As time passed, Roxanne spread her legs wider in order that she could reach her hot, slick sex and the painfully sensitive nub of flesh located there.

Her erotic thoughts of her lost lover and their passionate encounter had already gotten her nearly to a fever pitch of desire; after a time, Roxanne moaned and writhed, knowing what the sweet pain in her lower body signified. She was nearing the brink even as her fingers, which she imagined to be Barnabas' lips and tongue pleasuring her almost beyond endurance in between their couplings, of which she recalled at least two, lightly massaged her most secret place.

She also remembered vividly how his hands had felt intimately caressing her body and how incredible it had felt to feel his deliciously throbbing hardness filling her (after her initial pain, at least) as their intricately intertwined bodies had thrashed in frantic passion, unable to get enough of each other. _Oh, Barnabas, Barnabas, _she lamented, aching to feel her lover's lips, hands and body even as she felt her orgasm start; her writhing increased geometrically as she moaned softly once again.

_My love, if only I could feel you inside me again, feel your hands cradle my breasts, your lips and tongue suckling and licking me intimately…I doubt I shall ever feel such love or such ecstasy, not ever again. I also pray that we will be able to raise our child together for at least part of his/her life—but at this rate, it will be a miracle if we're even able to see each other again, much less anything else. But I'm a foolish, romantic dreamer…_

Her thoughts trailed off into slumber as her body quieted down, sated for the moment—but what she _really_ needed was Barnabas. Would she ever see him, be with him and share passionate, glorious love with him again? If she could only know what her beloved was doing, thinking and feeling right now…

Valerie/Angelique had been gloating sadistically ever since she'd heard that the girl Roxanne had left Collinwood, relishing how this must have affected Barnabas once he'd learned of it. And to think that silly twit had actually dared to confront her! It was laughable. Roxanne Drew could pose no threat to her whatsoever where Barnabas was concerned. Possession was nine-tenths of the law, and he was _her_ husband…and her husband he would remain, whatever he or anyone else tried to do to change that—for now and all time!

She was brought back to reality when Barnabas stormed into the room, his eyes staring daggers at her and his face like a thundercloud. She knew that didn't bode well, but was ready for him. However much he might rant and rave and threaten, Barnabas couldn't do anything to prevent her from keeping him under her thumb.

"Angelique!" His furious, thundering voice carried easily, despite the distance between them.

"In here, darling," she called back.

A moment later Barnabas strode over to her and spun her around to face him, holding her arms tightly. "What have you done?"

"Why, whatever do you mean?" she returned innocently.

"You know very well what I mean," he shot back. "Roxanne is gone."

"Gone?" Once again, Angelique pretended surprise.

Barnabas glared coldly at her. "Spare me your innocent charade, Angelique." His voice was as icy as his eyes upon her. "You must have done something to prompt Roxanne's departure."

"She left on her own. I merely stated the facts of our relationship," Angelique replied smugly.

"All you have—and all you will _ever_ have–is my name. My heart, mind, and soul belong to Roxanne!"

"Oh, really? Don't be a fool, Barnabas. Neither that little tart or your so-called sister, Julia, is any match for me and you know it!"

"Your evil sickens me," Barnabas bit out. "Simply being in the same room, much less the same house, with you is unbearable. And then to have you drive away the woman I love is unpardonable! Why can you not leave me in peace? Why must you force me to live with you, blackmail me into terminating my relationship with Roxanne? She never did anything but give me love and happiness…which is far more than I could ever say for the likes of you. I curse the day you ever crossed my path, rue the day I ever set eyes upon you!"

"I assure you, my _dear_ husband, that you are _much _better off without either Roxanne _or_ Julia."

"I frankly think you're afraid of both Roxanne _and_ Julia, because they represent everything you _can_ never, and _will _never, be. Will you never learn that you may force me to do your bidding, but that you cannot command love from me? Marriage to you was, and is, Hell on earth for me!"

Angelique went white with fury but did not deny it. Despite her earlier denial, Barnabas was still certain that she had something to do with Roxanne's leaving. His poor darling could not have left Collinsport voluntarily.

"Where did Roxanne go?" he demanded. "You will tell me, or feel my hands around your throat!"

"So feisty, my darling," Angelique responded silkily, although Barnabas sensed the venom underlying her words. "I always found you most irresistible when you were feisty! As for your precious Roxanne, she left on her own, as I told you. She told no one where she was going or why, not even her own family, so how could _I _possibly know where she is?"

"You have your ways." Ice again edged Barnabas' voice. "I put _nothing _past you, Angelique. Nothing whatsoever!"

"Well, this time I had nothing to do with it," Angelique insisted. "Whatever you choose to believe, I am telling you the truth!"

"Then you truly have no idea where Roxanne is or why she left." Barnabas seemed incredulous even as he sensed his wife's sincerity.

"None," Angelique reiterated, sincere for once. "However, I _do_ know that she and Julia were spotted speaking privately together shortly before she left. If anyone knows where Roxanne is, I suspect it's Julia…but being a doctor, I doubt you'll be able to get anything out of her without hypnotizing her or something." Valerie/Angelique gave her erstwhile spouse an evil, knowing smile. "But then you've always been marvelous at hypnotizing poor, helpless women so that they'll do your bidding. I was but one of many who succumbed to your—_fatal _charms." She laughed wickedly.

Barnabas clenched his fists in impotent rage, but knew he could do nothing against her… for now. _But one day, _he vowed silently. _One day, I swear I will find some way to destroy that woman and send her back to Hell, where she belongs!_

The silence between them grew so long that Valerie/Angelique spoke up. "If you have nothing further to say, dear husband, I would like to return to the Old House now—and I expect to see you there at a reasonable hour."

"Go! The sooner you remove yourself from my sight, the better!" Barnabas' innate politeness and charm were non-existent in the face of his intense hatred of his witch-wife. "And I will be there…but I will _not_ tell you where I've been. Because of what you've done to me, you've forfeited any rights you ever had as a wife and thus are entitled to nothing but my name, financial support and physical company to a limited extent. But that's _it_." His voice was quiet but emphatic.

"Very well, my husband," Angelique returned sweetly, but with an ominous undertone. "I can live with that… as long as you never forget that you are _mine_—and will remain so for as long as you live!" With that, the beautiful, blonde and deadly woman in period clothing flounced out of the room.

Barnabas sighed with relief, glad beyond words to know that Angelique was finally gone. His heart ached at the thought of Roxanne's departure. It was bad enough that Angelique had forced him to give up Roxanne without holding her life hostage in the bargain. Why had Roxanne not let anyone know where or why she had gone? What possible reason could she have had for doing such a thing?

Would he ever know, and would he ever see her again…ever hold, touch and kiss her again? The only thing he had left was her promise to write Julia, and it would be an eternity until she wrote again—and she _had_ to write again. How could he stand it otherwise? He sat down on the nearby couch and curled up there, both physically and emotionally exhausted as he found himself drifting off into a romantic yet erotic dream of his lost love a short time later upon making a mental note to write her back at the first opportunity.

_Oh, my precious, where can you be? _he lamented_. Why did you leave me? I miss you so; I need you, I hunger for you…to kiss your sweet lips, caress your silky, fragrant skin, feel myself inside you, your beautiful arms and long, slender legs wrapped around me…_

He pulled the afghan from the back of the couch in the parlor and arranged it over himself upon finding himself intensely, even painfully aroused, before proceeding to loosen his clothing to satisfy himself as best he could. All he had to do was remember Roxanne, how she had looked and acted during their delightfully pleasurable interludes.

Of course, this wasn't the first time such a thing had occurred. Roxanne's next letter prompted much the same reaction in Barnabas, just as his response triggered an answering one in her.

My beloved…

Are you thinking of me as I think of you, yearn for me as I yearn for you? I miss you so, my darling. I miss the touch of your hands caressing my body, the sweetness and passion of your kisses, the feel of your arms around me–but most of all, I miss feeling you inside me. If only I could feel your body possessing mine once again, your hands cradling my breasts, your lips and tongue kissing and caressing me intimately.

I doubt I shall ever feel such love or ecstasy ever again. But at this rate, it will be a miracle if we're even able to see each other again, much less anything else. But I'm a foolish, romantic dreamer; I am even childish enough to believe in miracles. But there is nothing childish about my feelings for you. You are the only man who has ever made me feel like a real woman, yet I can't help wondering if I'll ever be able to see you or be with you again.

Please tell me what you're doing, what you're thinking, how you're feeling, my love—and I'll tell you what I'm doing, thinking and feeling. I pray that things will change soon and that we won't have to be apart any more. Until then, we have only our letters to keep us close in heart and mind, however far apart we may be physically.

Write back as soon as you can, my darling. I live for the days I receive your passionate, beautiful letters. I love you, my precious Barnabas, and will always remain…

Your Roxanne

Barnabas' reply to her five days later was along much the same lines.

My dearest Roxanne, 

It was wonderful to hear from you, but do you not realize what you are doing to me by such provocative talk? I can scarcely tolerate being apart from you as it is. I can understand why you're doing it, but it doesn't make it any easier to endure the arousal it engenders in me.

Precious one, why will you not tell me where you are or why you left? Is there something you are trying to conceal from me, or are you still trying to protect us from something or someone (my wife, for instance)? If so, I would feel much better if we could do such things together, instead of being so far apart, unable to touch.

But no amount of distance will keep us apart emotionally. At the same time, I miss you almost unbearably, Roxanne. Please come home, my love. Home--back to me, my arms, my heart and my life.

Yours forever,

Barnabas

Over the course of the next several months, Julia basically kept Roxanne informed of how Barnabas was doing and feeling—and she never invaded their privacy, simply acted as courier for the forcibly separated lovers, who on the average, wrote every week…as often as they dared. She was glad to hear that Roxanne had found a good Doctor and that her pregnancy was progressing normally (she was now five months along and actually _looking_ pregnant)…and that she wasn't experiencing anything she shouldn't be, symptoms-wise.

Julia also kept Roxanne's family informed of how she was doing, although she rarely offered details beyond the answers to the basic health and happiness questions. It wasn't easy keeping her silence, but for the sake of both Barnabas and his paramour's family, Julia knew that she must. She especially didn't want to think of the consequences if Valerie found out about Roxanne's pregnancy. Of course, there would be a scandal if Roxanne's family found out, but their reactions and emotions in the matter would be far easier to live with.

Neither was it easy for Randall Drew to keep his silence on the subject of his younger sister's unexpected pregnancy, but he had surmised that it wasn't something she cared to discuss at length or in any detail—and he respected her privacy. He could only hope that this Barnabas Collins was willing to take responsibility for his child _after_ its birth, if not before…in spite of his marriage, however unhappy. Otherwise he, Randall, might not have any choice but to risk the wrath of not only his sister but Valerie Collins by suing Barnabas for child support.

The man could have visitation rights if he wished, but only if he came to where Roxanne was to do it. This would be done not only to protect him, but Roxanne and their child. Yet all that was in the future. For now, all Randall Drew could do was make sure Roxy had the best of care during her pregnancy and all the support he could give her—as well as be there when she needed someone to lean on in what was likely to be some of the toughest times of her life, both before and after the baby was born.

Of course, one can guess how Julia Hoffman was feeling personally about all this, particularly about Roxanne's pregnancy. Certainly May-December marriages between much-older men and younger women weren't exactly commonplace, but they weren't unheard of, either. Even if a miracle happened and Barnabas actually married her (Julia), it would still be the May-December marriage to end all May-December marriages. Of course, many times May-December marriages worked out just fine, although Julia didn't want to think about that, particularly when it came to Barnabas and Roxanne. Even now she still held out a slim hope that circumstances would change in her favor.

Barnabas didn't look to be any more than in his 40s, having aged only slightly due to several brief reversions back to Human over the years--and not at all as a vampire. Only now had he begun to age normally since she had managed to perfect her serum to end his curse. She herself was in her mid-40s, which was about right if you judged by outward appearances…but all his true contemporaries were long dead. At her age, she would be able to have maybe _one _child—and that was if she took care of herself.

Roxanne, on the other hand, was approximately in her mid-twenties, prime child-bearing age. Still, at the very least, she was young enough to have been a daughter to Julia herself or a granddaughter several times over to Barnabas, at least technically. The phrase "robbing the cradle " wasn't precise, but was as close as she could come to describing the age gap between Barnabas and Roxanne.

After having been denied marriage and children with Josette, Julia seriously doubted that Barnabas would turn down this chance to make up for lost time, provided that Valerie/Angelique could be effectively dealt with. And being an old-fashioned man, which was quite understandable when considering the fact that he had grown up and come of age in the 18th century, Barnabas would naturally think of marriage and children upon developing deep feelings for a woman—particularly one like Roxanne. It would also be second nature to him to "make an honest woman" of Roxanne at the first opportunity—as soon as decently possible, and as soon as he discovered that she was to bear him a child.

Of course, Julia prayed it wouldn't happen, since _she_ wanted to be the one to bear Barnabas a child…a natural desire, given her own feelings for him. But it just wasn't realistic to expect him to choose her, who could offer him only one child at best, in stark contrast to Roxanne, who could bear him several. As many as he liked, in fact—and who, even now, was carrying his first. She was currently roughly halfway through her pregnancy and had only recently been obliged to go shopping for more maternity dresses and baby things.

In her last letter she'd confessed that she'd had no idea just how much a baby needed simply to go through his/her first year of life. It was fortunate that she had arranged to have her allowance from her father sent to her via Julia–a generous check came from J. Leonard Drew every month…and most of this month's (September's) funds had been used for the aforementioned purposes. Ironic that neither he nor Samantha could know that within a matter of months, Roxanne would make them a grandfather and aunt respectively.

Roxanne had been living in New York with her brother since mid-April; her child was due in mid-December. She had become pregnant around the first of March, 1840. Of course, once Barnabas learned of his impending fatherhood, he would not only feel obligated but insist on offering Roxanne financial assistance in raising the child—mainly because he had always been taught never to shirk his responsibilities.

She had already decided to allow him visitation rights, updated daguerreotypes (photos) and perhaps even "conjugal visits" of a sort…once he learned of her pregnancy—and her whereabouts. Perhaps she could even be something like a common-law wife, if nothing else, and it was possible that he could disguise his visits (at least some of them) as business trips to New York for the Collins family corporation, trips which usually lasted several days, sometimes as long as a week.

However, there could be no easily discernable pattern or length to the trips or else Valerie/Angelique would surely deduce what was going on—and at all costs, Julia and Barnabas would know that that scenario must never happen if Roxanne and the child were to remain safe. At the moment, however, all that could be done was to continue the secret correspondence between the lovers during their enforced separation, the tone of the letters remaining tenderly passionate, whatever their length.

Each was glad that they had a fairly recent daguerreotype of their paramour, which they kept well-hidden…along with their letters to one another—except when they were alone. Both usually carried the latest missive with them everywhere until the next one came, then it went into the secret hiding place that only they (and Julia) knew about…then the pattern repeated itself. If the pregnancy continued to go well, both Julia and Roxanne had agreed to tell Barnabas about the child approximately a month before her due date; it was at that point that they all would decide the best thing to do, including deciding names for the child and such. Until such time, the status quo would be maintained, for the sake of everyone concerned.

As fate would have it, Barnabas had to do just that within a month, approximately mid-October. He had been sent to negotiate with a particularly difficult client; Quentin had believed that if anyone could talk this man around, it would be Barnabas, with his Old World charm and knack for diplomacy _par excellence._

He arrived at New York's Grand Central Station at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday, October 15, 1840, by coincidence riding the same exact train as Roxanne had. He had also taken a stagecoach to Bangor—also, as she had—to catch the train to New York there. Upon arrival, he headed straight for his hotel and his room on the seventh floor of the Waldorf-Astoria and left a message at the desk that he intended to meet with the client at 8:30 a.m. the following morning.

He bathed and dressed, then took a walk down Broadway, deciding to pick up a copy of the _New York Times_, when he caught a familiar voice—an achingly familiar voice. Could it actually be…? He turned around quickly; a handsome couple was coming toward him, dressed in evening clothes. The woman was obviously pregnant–Barnabas guessed about six months along, although he was no medical expert. (Julia could probably have told him exactly.)

The man with the woman was very solicitous of her, treating her like she was fine porcelain. He noticed, too, that she was very beautiful, with alabaster skin and fiery red hair, just like Roxanne's… He felt a stab of pain in his heart at the thought of her. _Roxanne, my precious one. I miss you so, _he couldn't help thinking, just before he looked up and got the shock of his life.

_It was Roxanne!_ But how could she possibly be pregnant? Had she gotten married on the rebound after they had been forced to break up? He couldn't have blamed her if she had. Was the man with her her husband…and if not, who was he?

"Roxanne!" he called out.

Her head shot up, and for a moment he saw equal amounts of stunned surprise, great happiness and stark fear on her face all at once. "Barnabas! How can it be you?" she exclaimed. Then something—neither had any idea what—compelled them into each other's arms. They kissed deeply, passionately, as if each were starved for the other…which they were. Neither seemed to care that they were on a public street; all that mattered was being in each other's arms again.

"Roxanne, Roxanne…my darling, my darling…" he murmured over and over between kisses.

"Barnabas…oh, my precious love," she crooned. "I've missed you so!"

It was some time before the lovers got enough strength to stop kissing and release each other—and even then, Barnabas kept a possessive arm around her.

"Roxanne, so this is where you've been all these months! Why could you not have told me? I've been imagining all manner of things happening to you!"

Roxanne lifted a hand to her lover's face and smiled lovingly. "I couldn't stay, beloved," she explained. "Not after what your wife said…"

"I cannot blame you for leaving," he replied. "But why could you not at least have told me _where _you were going, if not why? And how can you be pregnant? Have you gotten married on the rebound? Is the man with you your husband?"

"I can't explain everything here, Barnabas," Roxanne told him. "But I _will_ tell you this much." She gestured to Randall, who stepped up to join her. "This is Randall…" Her voice trailed off. "…my brother," she finished. "He has been looking after me; I've been living with him since I moved here."

"If you aren't married, then who is your baby's father?" he almost demanded.

"Not here," she bit out, uncomfortable since they were now the center of too much unwelcome attention. "Come, join us for dinner." She held out her hand to him. "I'll tell you everything then." He once again put an arm around her waist; Randall Drew flanked her on her other side.

A short time later the trio entered "21", a classy nightclub, which also offered dinners… but advance reservations were required, and Randall had made them a month before. It was possible to get in without a reservation, but one had to pay extra for the privilege—although paying guests _were_ included in the reservation on the word of the person who had made it.

The nattily dressed _maitre'd _approached them; Randall spoke grandly. "Drew, party of three," he said. "I made a reservation a month ago."

"Yes, _monsieur_," the man replied, his French accent thick and pronounced. "Your name is on our list. Follow me."

As soon as they were seated at their reserved table, Randall Drew smiled and said, "I now believe introductions are in order."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Roxanne apologized. "This is Barnabas Collins, Randall. He's the one I told you about."

"How do you do, Mr. Collins," Randall returned politely. "I've heard a lot about you."

"All good, I hope," Barnabas answered with a smile, equally polite, still holding Roxanne's hand unobtrusively under the table.

"Basically," Randall replied. "Except for the fact that you're married."

Barnabas became solemn. "Yes. I'm sorry. I assure you, I never meant to deceive Roxanne, not for a moment—but my wife and I had been estranged for many months before she returned unexpectedly back in April, shortly after…Roxanne and I had met and—fallen in love." He tightened his hold on her hand; she smiled tenderly and returned it. "I was…obliged to break off the relationship since my wife wished a reconciliation."

"It must have been—very painful for you," Randall remarked.

"Excruciating," Roxanne declared before Barnabas could reply.

"Amen," Barnabas finally agreed. "Unfortunately, my wife is a very jealous, paranoid woman, and threatened to harm Roxanne if we did not terminate the relationship. I could not risk that. I…deeply regret any pain Roxanne has been caused, Mr. Drew."

"Randall," the younger man corrected. " 'Mr. Drew' is our father."

"…Randall," Barnabas started again. "As I said, I deeply regret causing Roxanne any pain—but I had no idea that my wife, Valerie, had any intention of—pursuing a reconciliation. However, I am still…deeply in love with Roxanne in spite of that, and wish to continue my correspondence with her."

"What about your wife?"

"I have no wish to reconcile with her—and I told her so," Barnabas declared. "Not since I met and fell in love with Roxanne…but at the same time, I—cannot divorce her. If it were in my power, I would do so in a moment, but she would…never accept it."

"So what is there left to do?" Randall Drew remarked before continuing his meal.

Barnabas spoke before continuing his own meal and directing Roxanne to continue hers. "I—also intend to come here to visit her as often as I can, since I must make periodic business trips to New York. It must be planned carefully, of course, but it is within the realm of possibility that I can manage it so that my wife does not learn of either the trips or Roxanne's whereabouts."

"How have you been able to continue your correspondence?" Randall Drew wondered.

"My…sister Julia is acting as—go-between, forwarding our letters to one another," Barnabas explained.

"Roxy mentioned her. She's a doctor, I believe…and she diagnosed my sister's pregnancy."

"Yes," Barnabas confirmed. "Which brings me to my next question."

"Which is?" Randall Drew prompted.

"Whose child is Roxanne carrying? Can it–possibly be…mine?" Barnabas guessed.

"What do you think?" Roxanne put in. "How many times I ached to tell you, my darling. I knew it would make you the happiest man in the world to know that you were going to be a father, yet I could not risk telling you for fear of repercussions should your wife—Valerie—find out. Please forgive me for deceiving you, beloved, but I…felt I had no choice if I were going to–protect you and our child."

Barnabas' dark eyes softened, glowing with love as he turned to look at Roxanne and smile, touching her cheek. "There is nothing to forgive you for, my precious. You did what you felt best for all concerned." He gazed deeply into her eyes for a moment, then spoke again. "I'm going to be a father!" he proclaimed happily. "To think you took such a risk for my sake," he murmured softly, with great tenderness. "I don't know what to say."

Roxanne's eyes misted with tears. "Don't say anything, Barnabas. Just never stop loving me."

"Never," her lover vowed.

"Ah-hum!" Randall Drew broke in. "The food's getting cold, you two—and this place is too expensive for us to send it back uneaten."

Both of the couple smiled sheepishly and blushed; Randall only smiled understandingly and they finished their meals. After they left the restaurant, Roxanne clung closely to Barnabas; his arms remained firmly, protectively around her, one hand occasionally resting briefly on the swell of her belly that was their child and periodically kissing the top of her silky head.

"Randall, would it be…permissible for me to—take Roxanne to my hotel room? I—have missed her almost unbearably, and we have…a lot of—lost time to make up for." He looked entreatingly at his beloved's brother. "I promise you, I will return her safely to your home."

Randall Drew sensed Barnabas' sincerity and nodded. "Of course. I understand. Good night, you two." He stepped into the nearby coach and settled into it, then gave the coachman directions and sped off into the night.

After Randall was gone, Roxanne looked up at Barnabas and squeezed him. "I didn't think I would ever have you in my arms again, beloved. I can scarcely believe you're really here."

"Nor did I ever expect to have you in _my _arms again," Barnabas agreed, squeezing Roxanne gently. "Oh, my love! I have missed you so." He once again pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. "And now to find out that you're going to bear me a child…" His voice trailed off. "I can't help thinking that this has to be a dream. You can't possibly be here; I cannot possibly be this happy. Happier than I have ever been in my life."

Roxanne again raised a hand to his cheek and smiled. "I'm real, my darling. All too real—and I love you so much."

Barnabas soon found himself becoming intensely aroused. He and Roxanne had been apart for so long; he needed, _hungered_ to possess her again, love her again…pregnant or not. "Roxanne—my precious one, I need you so…I hunger for you. Will you—stay with me tonight?" he entreated.

"Yes, beloved. _Yes_!" she declared.

A moment later he called for another coach, and joined Roxanne after carefully, lovingly helping her into it…then as soon as the door was closed, he gave the coachman their destination. After that, he gave his full attention to Roxanne, the couple only occasionally coming up for air as the reunited lovers kissed and caressed hungrily, intimately, passionately—almost literally devouring one another.

They only reluctantly broke apart upon arriving at the hotel, clung to one another upon getting out of the coach, then into the hotel and elevator…and lastly, down the hall and into his 7th floor suite. Once the door was carefully locked behind them, all that mattered was loving one another, here and now.

Later, when Roxanne recalled the tryst with Barnabas, the first thing she remembered was his beautiful sable-brown eyes and tender smile before the world was blotted out by his strong but gentle arms and sweetly insistent lips. A moment later she felt his tongue gently probing between her lips in search of her own even as he undressed her, piece by piece, and she did the same for him.

After the last item of clothing had been dropped to the floor, Barnabas lightly stroked Roxanne's bare back, turned her so her back was to him, then pressed her body close to his to feel his arousal; as she parted her legs to accommodate him, he moaned softly and pressed her even closer. His hands moved up to cradle her breasts—creamy, grapefruit-size globes tipped with deep pink, rosebud nipples, which were painfully hard.

"Oh…Roxanne, Roxanne," he crooned against her silky, fragrant neck as he moved sensuously against her—then his right hand moved to slip between her legs to find her painfully sensitive sex.

"Barnabas, Barnabas…oh, my darling…" She moaned and squirmed under his sexy ministrations.

She was overwhelmed by him, by his nearness, his touch, his kiss. How could this truly be happening again? She had to have died and gone to Heaven! Still, all she wanted—for now and all time—was to be here in Barnabas' arms, feeling his lips and body molding themselves to hers.

"Stay with me tonight, Roxanne. I don't want to be alone," he pleaded. "It has been so long since we have been together, since I have felt your warm sweetness in my arms."

"I'm not going anywhere," she assured him.

Their passion took them to heights neither had ever imagined possible as he turned her around and they kissed and caressed one another. A short time later, Barnabas' talented fingers had brought Roxanne to an incredible climax. She had never felt such pleasure before—nor would she, ever again. Her knees were weak from the intensity of it, so he helped her to the bed, then lay down with her, positioning his lover so that she was astride him. He helped her move up and down on him, his hands gently holding her hips and his hard, deliciously throbbing member fitting perfectly inside her, completing her as nothing ever had…or ever would. Roxanne knew she would always want to feel Barnabas between her legs, inside her, both in front and in the back…

"Sweet Roxanne, you are so beautiful—especially now that you are carrying my child." Barnabas stroked and kissed her pregnant belly, then placed her on her side beside him, yet facing away from him, then put his arms around her from behind, pressing his hardness gently between her buttocks as he did so.

Roxanne moaned with pleasure when Barnabas' fingertips brushed her erect nipples while still cradling her warm, sweet fullness—then nuzzled the nape of her neck with his lips, causing such a delicious tingle to spread down her spine, then to every part of her body, ending in her most sensitive parts.

"We have so much time to make up for, my darling," he crooned as he moved deliciously against her, molding his body spoon-fashion around her. "I don't think I shall ever get enough of you."

"Barnabas…" she whispered huskily.

"Yes?" he asked softly, voice equally husky as he rested his head on her bare shoulder for a time.

"Please—lick and suck my nipples. I want…I _need_ to feel you doing it."

He turned her to face him again; she was once again astride him as the lantern light in the room threw their shadows onto the wall. A roaring fire was blazing in the fireplace—a fitting accompaniment to the sweet, hot fire of the lovers' passion.

"Barnabas, my love. Please…_now_, before I die."

A moment later his lips found and drew Roxanne's left nipple into his sweetly hot, delicious mouth. His tongue gently stroked around the nipple, making it harden further before beginning to suck hungrily. She moaned and arched her back, the double pleasure of feeling both his sweet hardness moving and pulsing inside her while his lips and tongue feasted on her breast almost driving her over the edge.

"Ohh…beloved, that feels so wonderful…"

A minute later he favored her right breast and nipple with equal attention, prompting a similar response to his exquisite torture. Shortly afterward, the passionate pair sank down to the softness of the large feather bed beneath them. They were swept away into a maelstrom of unimaginable passion, stronger, deeper and yet sweeter than any they had ever known before. All Roxanne cared to know was the feel of her beloved's lips and tongue, the feel of him once again moving inside her, burying his face in her neck with a groan and slumping against her—but before she had a chance to catch her breath, he was at it again.

He passionately pressed her body close to his, making her ride him gently at first, then harder, until he was almost battering her. His member was still rock-hard and throbbing deliciously inside her, loving the molten heat the intimate contact prompted within her totally aroused body. His hands found her hips again as his pelvis molded itself to hers; they shifted position and cried out even as Barnabas climaxed, knowing he would be unable to stop himself for a long time. All he could do was thrust deeply and let himself go. His voice was a moan as he tried to warn Roxanne.

"Roxanne…"

"Yes, beloved. Yes…_yes_!" she cried out again as his body tensed against hers. She soon felt her own release coming, every bit as uncontrollable as his. When it hit, she felt as though they had been rocketed to the stars. It felt like a molten river filling her entire body cavity. So this was how it felt to have Barnabas come inside her, his large erection filling her beyond belief, the connection between them so tight that there was no way for them to disengage, even had they desired to do so at this point…he had grown so much inside her.

This suited Roxanne just fine; she had waited so long for this—and him—that she wanted it to last as long as possible. Another orgasm crashed over her at this point, like an immense tidal wave, her pleasure so intense that she almost passed out. After a time she whispered against his lips, "Barnabas… Darling, I want you to lick and suck between my legs…"

It took a while for them to disengage, but he managed, then released her and kissed his way down her body, lingering on her swollen belly until he was just above the pubic area, moving her unresisting legs apart just enough so that he could get his head between them. His tongue lightly stroked her sex, parting the soft folds nestled within. He drank in her sweet juices coupled with his own as he explored further. She moaned, writhed and cried out when he touched her sensitive center. Her hands pressed his head closer, loving the feel of his silky black hair beneath her fingers.

"Oh, my love, I want to come. Make me come with your tongue…" It wasn't long before his tongue began probing and exploring with devastating thoroughness. She soon began the delicious climb to yet another orgasm even as Barnabas felt himself once again become achingly hard. He had no idea it was possible to become aroused again so quickly or easily, even during his liaison with Angelique in Martinique so many years ago.

The height of this pinnacle dwarfed even the intensity of her other orgasm; she had to fight to stay conscious this time and it took even longer to recover—but once she had, she whispered to her lover, "I want to please _you_ now, beloved. Take you into my mouth, lick and suckle you to ecstasy…"

Being an old-fashioned man, Barnabas was momentarily scandalized, but despite this soon found himself wanting to feel his iron-hard, pleasurably throbbing manhood in Roxanne's sweet, moist mouth. He flushed at the thought, but his aroused body and desire for her soon took precedence. He moved so she could more easily take him into her mouth; she gently licked and sucked his length, careful not to bite him. He moaned and squirmed, holding her auburn head between his legs as her lips and tongue inflamed him almost beyond endurance.

When she stopped momentarily to note his reactions, she smiled inwardly at the look of mixed pain and frustration on his face. "Please—Roxanne, my darling, do not stop. I…must–come in your mouth. I can…wait no longer. _Ohhh–_"

Once she had resumed her previous actions, it took but a moment for him to arch his back and cry out in pleasure as liquid passion left his body to fill his lover's eager mouth. One would have thought each would have been exhausted by now, but the desire between Roxanne and Barnabas was such that they had to join one more time. The love they made was once again tenderly passionate as their lips, tongues and hands intimately explored each other's bodies.

Barnabas eventually positioned himself, once again hard, at the opening to Roxanne's body, sighing contentedly as he moved within her. Her arms and hands pressed him close as they kissed deeply one more time. Between kisses, she whispered, "You have no idea how many times I've imagined this, fantasized about this…"

This seemed to urge him on until he was moving inside her with such urgency that she didn't think he would ever get enough of her. He seemed insatiable as his hands and lips moved over her and his hardness moved inside her, making up for all the months the lovers had been denied to each other. Roxanne doubted she would ever get the taste or feel of Barnabas out of either her mind or body…and frankly never wanted to. Her unborn child had even seemed to leap for joy inside her, as if it knew that its parents were together again at last.

She felt as if she had been given a badge of honor. She loved, and _was_ loved, by Barnabas Collins, the sexiest, most passionate man in the world! Both were pleasantly exhausted by the time reality manifested itself again, but had just enough energy to curl around each other and prepare themselves for sleep. Within half an hour, the intricately entwined lovers slept deeply and contentedly until morning.

Barnabas' last waking thoughts were occupied with the necessity of getting Roxanne home safely, then preparing for his meeting with the client he had come to see. He had no wish to rise early or ever be parted from her again—particularly now that he knew she carried his child—but for the moment, it was necessary.

There _had_ to be a way to be with her as he wished. He prayed it was only a matter of finding it, because he wanted with all his heart, every fiber of his being, for the mother of his child to also be his lawfully wedded wife.

It took roughly a week for even Barnabas to wear down the aforementioned client, but he managed. He kept Quentin informed as to the progress of his negotiations, but told himself to tell only Julia about his having been reunited with Roxanne and for her not to discuss it under any circumstances with anyone but him. Virtually every moment he wasn't with the client, he was with Roxanne, making up for lost time with the proverbial vengeance. His love for her seemed to grow by the day; it was difficult for him to believe that it was possible to feel so deeply for anyone.

Randall Drew had offered several times to pick his sister up in order to save Barnabas the trip, but the latter diplomatically refused, explaining that he wished to be with her as long as possible. Despite his initial wariness of the man, Randall found himself trusting Barnabas implicitly–and over time, realized that his trust had not been misplaced. His only concern was for what might happen should Valerie Collins learn what was going on and harm Roxanne and/or her child as she had originally threatened.

Barnabas found himself devoutly wishing it were possible for him to be married to two women, then keep Roxanne in New York as his "favorite" wife and Valerie/Angelique as "senior" wife, despite the fact that their marriage was largely in name only. For the most part, Barnabas simply went through the motions of being a proper husband, doing and saying all the right things in public, but sharing little with her other than their home. His heart was with Roxanne and there it would stay.

He could still recall the first time he had returned Roxanne to her home. He had awakened early just to watch his beloved sleep, feeling such love for her and their child that he thought his heart would burst. As he had once told Julia, he had not felt like this since Josette… and since then, he had discovered that his feelings for Roxanne now surpassed even those he had felt for Josette, particularly since Roxanne was carrying his child, something Josette had never been allowed to do.

Once Roxanne had awakened, he had explained to her that he had an early appointment with an important business contact; otherwise he would gladly have stayed with her. "This client is very important to the future of the Collins family corporation, but at the same time, very difficult to negotiate with, so my cousin Quentin, CEO of the company, believes that I am the one best suited to deal with him."

Roxanne sensed his sincerity and his desire to do his best not to let his cousin down, smiling understandingly. "Of course, my darling. I understand—but will I see you again?"

He pulled her into his arms upon sensing her doubts. "I shall remain here for as long as it takes to convince our client to sign with us…and assure you that I intend to see you at every opportunity. After having finally found you again, I have no plans to let you go."

"In that case, I had better get ready so that you can escort me home—but I hate to let you out of my sight after having been without you for so long." She turned over and attempted to get out of bed upon his releasing her, but her bulk made it necessary for Barnabas to assist her… which he was all too happy to do.

Once on her feet, Roxanne was able to do almost everything for herself, except put on her stockings and hose. Again, Barnabas had to help her—and again, was happy to do it…do something like a husband might do for his wife—a title he wanted so very much to bestow upon her, a title his heart told him was meant for Roxanne and her alone. Once that was done, he retrieved her cloak and placed it around her shoulders upon finishing dressing himself. She waited in a chair near the door, her reticule in her hands, while he gathered his business materials, then donned his own cloak.

Barnabas left the suite with Roxanne upon leaving a note for the maid to make up his room. It was still only about 7:30 a.m., so he would have just enough time to drop Roxanne off at her home before heading to his business appointment. Upon calling for an enclosed carriage, the lovers held each other tightly once in the privacy of its cab; Roxanne had even felt her unborn child kick her.

"Barnabas!" she called softly.

"What?" he replied. "Are you all right, darling?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I just want you to feel something." She took one of his hands and placed it on the right side of her large belly; to his delight, Barnabas felt movement, a gentle kicking under his hand. His child!

"Our baby," he murmured softly.

"Yes, my darling," she confirmed, resting a loving hand over his, which was still on her belly.

"Which reminds me—I want you to take good care of yourself. Nothing must endanger you or our child." He held her auburn head close to his heart and kissed the top of it. "I will see you again at the first opportunity after my appointment," he promised as they pulled up in front of her home. He got out, then helped her out and took her to the door, waiting while she unlocked it. He disliked her being alone in the house while he and her brother were working…except for the housekeeper, that is…but there was little he could do about it.

After a lingering kiss at the door, he reluctantly released Roxanne and whispered, "I don't want to leave you, my darling–not ever again…but I must."

"I know; it's necessary," she reminded him. "You'd better go now, my love. Contact me as soon as you can."

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Take care, beloved."

"You, too," she returned. She then surprised him by standing on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on his nose before stepping through the door and locking it behind her.

Barnabas was stunned for a moment, then smiled and turned back to head for the waiting carriage—then got into it and told the driver to take him to his next destination, the New York offices of the Collins Family Corporation. With that, Barnabas officially began his workday.

Barnabas found himself staying with Roxanne again that night, this time at her home with Randall's permission, sharing another tenderly passionate interlude in her arms. No thoughts of possible repercussions should Valerie/Angelique find out about it entered his mind in the ecstasy he and Roxanne shared together. Upon his return to the hotel the following afternoon after business hours were over, the desk clerk approached him as he entered the lobby.

"Barnabas Collins?" he asked.

"Yes?" Barnabas turned to face him.

"I have a message for you, Mr. Collins. It came in around eight p.m. yesterday evening," the other man reported.

"Who was it from?" he asked, thinking it might be from Quentin.

"The message was signed 'Valerie Collins'. Is she your wife?"

Barnabas nodded. "I have been away on business and too busy to contact her."

"Then I respectfully suggest that you do so at your earliest opportunity, sir. If I may say so, she seems very anxious to get in touch with you."

"I shall do so; don't worry," Barnabas assured the clerk, wondering all the while how he would respond to the message. He knew he had to, of course; otherwise, Valerie/Angelique might come up here herself and he couldn't risk her finding out about Roxanne, especially since his beloved was carrying his first child. Perhaps a son, but after all this time, gender mattered little to him as long as it meant his becoming a father.

For the moment, however, Barnabas had to think of what he was going to say and hope to God it would satisfy her, because Angelique had never been easily fooled…not for long. She could pretend to be, then at the same time secretly plot to discover the truth in her own way. Whatever else she was, his wife wasn't stupid. He knew better than anyone how dangerous it was to cross her, but where Roxanne was concerned, didn't see that he had any choice in the matter. His know ledge of Roxanne's whereabouts and the fact of her advanced pregnancy must remain a secret if her and the child's safety were to be anywhere near guaranteed.

After having dinner, he finally wrote the following:

_October 19, 1840_ _7:15 p.m._ _Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York_  
_My dear wife…_

_I regret not having been available to receive your message yesterday evening, but the negotiations with our client ran late, so he invited me to his home as his overnight guest. I did not return to the hotel until the close of business this afternoon, when the desk clerk informed me that your message had arrived._

_With any luck, it will not happen again, but if it does, you may assume that the above is what occurred. Quentin will tell you that this client is very important to the future stability of our business, but at the same time, extremely difficult to negotiate with, so he believed my speaking with him would elicit the most favorable response._

_As soon as our negotiations are completed, you may be assured that I will return home to you. Until then, I remain your ever-devoted husband…_

_Barnabas_

He directed the clerk to give the message to his fastest horse and rider in order to ensure the most rapid possible delivery to Valerie/Angelique at the Old House, making sure to tip both men handsomely. Now that that was done, Barnabas decided to do all he could to ensure that his alibi would be airtight should Angelique decide to make inquiries, and that all concerned would back him up one hundred percent. If he was successful, she might still be suspicious, but would be unable to prove anything against him.

However, he wrote a very different letter to Julia, explaining that he had been reunited with Roxanne and was fully aware of both her pregnancy and the circumstances behind it…also that when he wasn't working, he spent every possible moment with her, making up for lost time. He also planned to return to New York to be with her at every opportunity and fully intended to be an integral part of his child's life to the fullest possible extent. He also hoped that he would be able to be with Roxanne when she gave birth.

He had recently instructed both Quentin and Randall Drew to cover for him during his future trips to New York, again claiming urgent business with one client or another in order to cover his tracks as best he could. Of course, he would need to actually contact the client and see if there was any actual business they wished to transact, so he could tell Angelique that and not feel he was lying. Otherwise she would surely detect it, and that was the last thing he needed.

He also intended to have a talk with Julia and ask why she had kept the child and Roxanne's location secret for so long, although he couldn't be _too_ upset with her. Julia had always acted in his best interests, so Barnabas was sure that that was also the case here. He did not consciously mean to be callous or thoughtless of her feelings, particularly when they regarded him, but at the moment was too happy to hold back his own. He could only hope that she would forgive him for any pain his confessions might cause her.

When Barnabas finally did arrive back in Collinsport—again, after having come directly to Grand Central from Roxanne's home, where he had once again spent the night—five and a half days had passed. He was frankly dreading his confrontation with Angelique because he was certain she suspected the worst and would not hesitate to tell him as much. He couldn't help but breathe easier when he saw only Julia waiting for him; the two friends embraced warmly.

"Barnabas, it's good to have you back," Julia told him.

"It's good to see you, too," he returned sincerely. "Where is Valerie?"

"Having breakfast," was the reply.

"Did you get my letter?" Barnabas wondered, seeming to relax at the knowledge that his wife was not going to walk in unexpectedly.

Julia nodded. "I imagine you were surprised to see Roxanne again."

"That's putting it mildly," he opined. "I was never so shocked–or happy–in my life. I have missed her almost unbearably, and she has never seemed so beautiful to me as now, when she is carrying my child." He smiled at the thought. "Julia, why did you not at least tell me why she left? You know how long I have waited to become a father."

_I know, _Julia thought with a smile, even as a sharp pain pierced her heart. _I only wish that I could be the one to give you your first child!_

"I cannot speak of it further here or now," Barnabas stage-whispered. "But we must discuss it at length as soon as possible."

"When you decide, let me know when and I'll be there," Julia assured him. "I had better let you get settled back in now. See you later."

"Later," he said, nodding and smiling in her direction before taking his leave of her.

A short time later, Valerie/Angelique came into the Collinwood drawing room. "I understand Barnabas has returned," she remarked coolly to Julia.

"Yes, he has," Julia confirmed with equal coolness. "You just missed him, in fact. I expect he's on his way back to the Old House."

"Good," the younger-looking woman opined. "I'll go back there myself now, since I need to speak with him anyway."

Angelique nodded in Julia's direction and also departed. Julia sighed in relief, glad to see the other woman go. There was no love lost between them, particularly since Valerie/Angelique suspected that Julia's feelings for Barnabas were more than friendship…among other things. She believed she had been able to dissuade her, for the moment, but could not say exactly for how long—and fervently wished that she could go to the Old House and be with Barnabas, if only for moral support when his wife confronted him.

But she had specific orders to stay away because she was not welcome there—at least not by her erstwhile sister-in-law. Then she had a thought. Perhaps she could go and listen at the parlor window at the Old House, see how the conversation between Barnabas and Valerie went. Yes, she would do that.

Julia then grabbed her own cloak and departed Collinwood for the Old House, a quarter-hour's walk away, praying all the while that Barnabas managed to keep not only his secret assignation with Roxanne from becoming known to his wife but the fact of the younger woman's pregnancy, the knowledge that it was his child…and most of all, the fact that he fully intended to continue his trips to New York—all the while under the guise of business if necessary—in order to see her… and later on, their child.

By the time Julia arrived and had hidden herself in the bushes outside the open window of the Old House parlor, the discussion between Barnabas and his wife…which was fast degenerating into an argument—was well underway.

"Did you not receive my letter?" Barnabas reiterated, very close to losing his temper. "I explained to you where and why I had been out that evening."

Angelique stared icy blue daggers at her husband. "Did you truly expect me to believe that rubbish? That was one of the most transparent cover-up schemes I have ever seen!"

"It was not rubbish, it was the truth. I would be a fool to attempt to conceal anything from you," Barnabas insisted, then sighed. "All right, what do you believe I have done?" _As if I don't know, _he thought wryly.

"I cannot say, but I assure you, I _will_ find out," she warned. "And when I do…" Her voice trailed off ominously.

"If you are so certain I am guilty of something, check out my story," Barnabas challenged, confident that he had covered his tracks sufficiently so that Angelique could not uncover any evidence of wrongdoing on his part…any evidence of Roxanne, her pregnancy or even her relationship to Randall Drew—and even if this fact were discovered, it could be easily explained…and believably–for most people. Angelique was something else again. Her suspicious nature and rampant paranoia were legendary. So far, Julia believed that Barnabas had the upper hand, but knowing Angelique, she could not be sure how long that would be the case.

"Oh, I intend to; you may have no doubt of that," Angelique shot back. "Your story is far too clever, entirely too well-contrived to be believable—and whatever I must do to uncover the truth, I shall do it! In the meantime, bathe and change. I have ordered dinner to be served within the hour."

"Very well. If you will excuse me." Barnabas nodded in his wife's direction and left the room. A short time later Angelique also departed.

Having surmised that the conversation was over, Julia also turned to leave and had almost made good her escape when she felt a rough hand pull her back. She turned to find Angelique's servant, the renegade Gypsy, Laszlo, standing there, glaring menacingly at her.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "You know that you have been banished from this house!"

"I was taking a walk," Julia claimed.

"I don't believe you," Laszlo challenged.

"I don't care if you believe me or not," Julia snapped. "It's the truth, and even if I _had_ been doing what you accuse me of, it would have been out of love and concern for my brother. No one and nothing is going to stop me from checking on him when I feel the need to do so. Not you, not Angelique…not anyone!"

"I don't believe that Barnabas Collins is your brother any more than he is mine," Laszlo declared. "The two of you are hiding something, and I intend to find out what it is!"

"You sound as paranoid as your mistress, blowing a simple matter totally out of proportion," Julia stated coolly but ominously. "Now, if you would kindly release me, I'm late for my supper. Good day."

To Julia's surprise, her arm was released and she was free to go her way…but she had a few more things to say first. "Whatever your reasons for being here, I don't want to catch you here again, or else I will be forced to report you," Laszlo warned.

"Do as you like," Julia returned carelessly. "Of course, one might ask _you_ the same question you asked _me, _because as far as I know, Angelique hasn't needed you to do any more of her dirty work for at least the last week—but knowing her, I'm sure it's only a matter of time."

"I don't have to tell you anything," Laszlo shot back.

"Nor do I have to tell _you_ anything," Julia retorted. With that, she flounced off in the direction of Collinwood with as much dignity as she could muster. Upon arrival, she headed back to her room to bathe and change, thinking over all she had heard and speculating on what it might mean for not only Barnabas and Roxanne but their child and herself, if Valerie/Angelique discovered the whole, entire truth as she had threatened.

Despite their best efforts, Julia had little doubt that it would happen eventually, given Angelique's determination and penchant for making all the lives of those unlucky enough to come into contact with her as miserable as possible. For the time being, however, she surmised that discretion would be the better part of valor…at least until circumstances called for her and/or Barnabas to do otherwise.

To both Barnabas and Julia's (not to mention Roxanne and Randall's) relief, it seemed to have satisfied Angelique, what she found upon inquiring as to her husband's activities in New York while on his recent business trip. So far she had given no indication that she'd discovered anything incriminating…or if she had, she wasn't talking.

That could simply mean that she was plotting something, but it was hard to take precautions when they were so unsure of what she was up to, if anything. All they could do was be as prepared as possible, for as much as possible—while all the time the lovers continued their correspondence.

The next thing they knew, a courier brought a telegram from New York to Collinwood, bearing the news they both anticipated and dreaded.

JULIA

URGENT BUSINESS IN NEW YORK STOP YOU AND BARNABAS NEEDED IMMEDIATELY STOP DETAILS WHEN YOU ARRIVE STOP COME TO MY HOME STOP

RD

Considering the initials used, Julia was convinced that it could be none other than Randall Drew contacting them…but what had happened? Had Roxanne gone into labor? It wasn't her due date yet; only around the first of December. Could she be delivering early? That happened sometimes with first babies. She had to speak with Barnabas, whatever it took, so she went to the Old House. Thankfully he was there alone; she asked where Valerie/Angelique was.

"She went to Bangor on a shopping trip with that Gypsy lackey of hers," he reported. "Why?"

She handed him the telegram, which he quickly perused. The pair looked at each other apprehensively.

"When did this come?" he asked.

"Half an hour ago. I came immediately to tell you. We must get to New York right away."

"Do you think Roxanne's time has come?" Barnabas wondered.

"It's early, but entirely possible," Julia confirmed. "Can you be ready in an hour? I'll get packed, call for a carriage, then pick you up here."

"Fine," Barnabas agreed. "I will be waiting."

True to his word, Barnabas was ready and waiting when Julia returned with the carriage. After his luggage had been loaded onto it, the two climbed in and were off. From the Bangor station, Barnabas sent a quick telegram to his wife before they boarded the train to New York.

VALERIE

HAVE BEEN CALLED TO NEW YORK ON URGENT BUSINESS STOP ONE OF THE CORPORATION'S CLIENTS HAS FALLEN ILL AND IS IN HOSPITAL STOP JULIA IS ACCOMPANYING ME FOR CONSULTATION REASONS STOP WILL GIVE YOU THE DETAILS UPON MY RETURN STOP

BARNABAS

Julia marveled at how Barnabas could think on his feet so easily and quickly; when she commented on this, he smiled wryly and replied, "I assure you, I have had to learn to do so…and the hard way, thanks to Angelique."

Considering both the suddenness of his departure and the fact that Julia, a doctor, had accompanied him, Barnabas had to expect that despite his reassuring telegram, Angelique would again suspect the worst, but there was little he could do about it now. He could only hope that she would go directly back to the Old House from Bangor and not follow him to New York upon receipt of the telegram; otherwise, he doubted he could ever explain his way out of this. In the other situation, he had had ample opportunity to cover his tracks; this one had cropped up so suddenly that he would be unable to do so—at least not easily or quickly.

Barnabas couldn't let himself think too much about that now; he was more concerned about Roxanne. What if she had problems giving birth? What if she and/or the child died? He couldn't bear that thought; he must think positive…they were going to live! But this was 1840; there weren't half the medical marvels here that there were even in 1970. In the 19th century, it was more likely than not that a woman died in childbirth, even with proper medical care, if complications set in that the medical practitioner was unprepared for. Even Julia's medical skill might not be enough to save Roxanne and the child if she didn't have the proper tools and drugs to work with…and he couldn't be sure of that, even though she had brought her bag with its medicines and medical paraphernalia with her from 1970.

Julia understood why Barnabas was so quiet; he was preoccupied with Roxanne and his child. He would be devastated if he lost them now after having come so close to being a father, so if only for his sake, she had to do her best for them, whatever that entailed.

Upon arrival in New York, they called for a carriage to take them directly to the Drew home. Randall was waiting when they arrived; the first thing Barnabas asked was, "How is Roxanne?"

"She's in hospital; she went into labor early this morning," he explained. "I thought it best to meet you here, then we could go to the hospital together. Is your carriage still here?"

"I told them to wait," Barnabas confirmed.

"Good; let's go. I'll tell you the rest on the way." After a quick note to his housekeeper and locking up the house, Randall joined Barnabas and Julia in the carriage and they headed for the hospital.

Once at the hospital, Barnabas and Julia followed Randall to the maternity ward. The nurse on duty recognized Randall, but asked who his companions were.

"Barnabas Collins, father of the child, and Julia Collins, his sister, who is also a physician," Randall explained.

The nurse seemed both surprised and hesitant before she said, "Very well. I will tell the doctor you're here. One moment." She turned and disappeared through the nearby double doors.

Barnabas had to fight not to follow her. His beloved was here somewhere, bringing his child into the world; he wanted—_needed—_to be with her and resented anyone keeping him from her side.

After a seeming eternity, the nurse returned. "Miss Drew is in Delivery Room Three. Dr. Thoroughgood is with her, but she is calling for you, Mr. Collins. Are you her husband? Perhaps I should change the name on her chart."

There was silence for a moment as the others held their breaths, wondering what Barnabas' answer would be. Both knew how much he _wanted_ to be Roxanne's husband, but saying he was and actually being such were two different things. What if he said he already was and Angelique found out?

It was their turn to be stunned when Barnabas said, without blinking and with a straight face, "Yes, she is my wife. Now may I see her?"

Both Julia and Randall stared at him, wide-eyed, but Barnabas frowned and shook his head in their direction. All that mattered to him right now was getting to Roxanne; he could deal with Angelique and any repercussions which might result from his impulsive statement later, after all this childbirth business was over and done with.

"I see. In that case, Mr. Collins, follow me. You too, Dr. Collins. She is this way." The other nurse present directed Randall Drew to seat himself in the waiting room to wait for both his sister to give birth and his companions to return.

It was all Barnabas could do to keep from gathering Roxanne into his arms when he finally managed to see her; it seemed forever before he and Julia had been prepared sufficiently to be allowed in the delivery room. The attending physician, one Lawrence Thoroughgood, nodded in their direction to acknowledge their presence, then returned to monitoring her vital signs.

"Roxanne! Darling, I am here," he crooned lovingly to her when he at last stepped up to her side.

Roxanne latched onto his hand like a lifeline, raising it to her lips and kissing it passionately. "Beloved," she murmured. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me…" A moment later, she moaned and writhed as another contraction hit her.

He leaned over to kiss her perspiring forehead. "I am not leaving you, my precious," he assured her. "Not until our child is born."

Julia joined Dr. Thoroughgood in monitoring Roxanne's vital signs and the progress of the birth; both doctors determined that she was about ready to give birth, since she was almost fully dilated and the child had moved into the proper position. Even at that, it would still be some hours before it would occur...and there would still be much perspiration, much pain. Once the baby's head appeared, Dr. Thoroughgood gave his patient a shot of local anesthetic and made a slight incision to make it easier for it to come out. He then sutured the edges of the incision to help prevent unnecessary bleeding.

Not long afterward Roxanne's moans and writhing became continuous, and occasionally she screamed. Barnabas closed his eyes in pain and ignored it as best he could, but still felt her pain as if it were his own. She was going through such agony—and for _his_ sake. If only there was something more he could have done to help her! He never left her side all during the long hours of her childbirth; his hand was sore and he could barely flex his fingers by the time it was over, but it was well worth it in the end.

It was 6:35 p.m. by the time the child was born, just over eighteen hours since Roxanne had gone into labor. All were exhausted by the time it was over, but at the same time, Barnabas couldn't have been happier if he had tried. He was a father! And of such a beautiful little girl, too, the very image of her mother, his precious Roxanne.

Once Roxanne had awakened from her exhausting ordeal and had been placed in a bed in the maternity ward, Barnabas and Julia were at her side, the proud new father holding his first-born in his arms, his eyes misty with happiness. "She's so beautiful, Julia," he rhapsodized. "My daughter!" He gazed upon the tiny face, which was a miniature of Roxanne's, right down to the auburn fuzz on her head and blue-green eyes. He fished for her tiny, perfectly formed hand and it immediately latched onto his large finger with a death grip. A moment later he raised it to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

"Yes," Julia agreed, feeling both happy for him and aching for herself that she could not have been the one to give him this beautiful child. "Don't you think it's time you named her?" she suggested. "For your mother, perhaps, or Roxanne's?"

"I was thinking perhaps 'Rose Elizabeth' or 'Julia Rose'," the new mother put in. "After all, if it hadn't been for you helping us, Julia, this moment would never have happened."

"I agree," Barnabas concurred. "I think 'Julia Rose' would be perfect…but we can call her 'Rose' for short. Does that meet with your approval, my darling?"

"Sounds beautiful," Roxanne agreed. "Just as beautiful as our little girl herself." She gave the child in her lover's arms a tender look full of maternal love.

"There is also something else I would like to suggest to you," Barnabas remarked to Roxanne.

"What is it, my love?" she asked.

"Do you think Julia would consent to being our child's godmother?"

Julia was too stunned to react for some time, and when she did, she said, "I'm honored and flattered that you would want to do that, Barnabas, but surely Roxanne has someone else in mind."

"Not really," Roxanne denied. "I think it's a wonderful idea."

Just then, a knock came on the door. "Come in," Roxanne said.

The older woman they had come to know as the Head Nurse stuck her head in. "Your brother wishes to see you, Miss Drew…or should I say Mrs. Collins?"

Roxanne was stunned speechless, giving both Barnabas and Julia questioning looks, but he only smiled and nodded at her to go along with it. "Yes, of course," she agreed. "Send him in."

A moment later Randall Drew entered and made his way to his sister's side to see his new niece, still in her father's arms. He spoke softly to Barnabas. "May I hold her?"

Barnabas seemed reluctant but allowed Randall to take the child and hold her. Roxanne smiled and remarked, "I can tell right now that Rose is going to be a real Daddy's girl."

The others had to echo her smile and agree, including the new father himself… then she asked the question she had been wanting to ask since her brother's arrival.

"Barnabas, why did the nurse call me 'Mrs. Collins'?"

"Because I told her you were my wife," he returned simply. "It was the only way I could get in to see you."

"What if your real wife—Valerie—finds out?" she wondered.

"I will do my utmost to see to it that she doesn't," he assured her. "Now I think it is best for you to inform your brother of what his niece's name is."

"Randall," Roxanne called softly. "Meet your niece, Julia Rose Collins."

The younger man looked up and smiled…first at his sister, then at his tiny niece nestled in his arms, and finally at Barnabas and Julia, the ones who had made this moment possible.

"She's beautiful," he pronounced. "Looks just like you, Sis." Then he was silent for a time, just gazing lovingly upon the child, before he spoke again. "Mr. Collins—Barnabas—I assume you intend to acknowledge paternity?"

"I would not be here otherwise," Barnabas assured him.

"Does that mean you also intend to extend financial support for little Rose?"

"It does," he declared.

"And do you want your name on the birth certificate as the father?"

"Definitely," Barnabas returned emphatically. "I would never deny my own flesh and blood."

"I assume that also means that you wish a copy of the birth certificate," Randall continued.

"Most certainly."

"Very well. I'll make sure you receive one before you leave," Randall promised. "Now how about a family photo? My treat."

"Thank you, Randall; that would be wonderful," Roxanne heartily concurred.

"Only if you allow me to pay for half of it," Barnabas told him.

"As you wish," Randall conceded. "Now I suggest we get it done as soon as possible. How about the day Roxy and Rose go home? I'll make the arrangements."

"Fine," was the reply.

At that moment the nurse came in and said, stepping up next to Randall, "It's time for this little miss's dinner. Now, if you all would leave so as to allow mother and daughter some privacy…"

"I am the child's father," Barnabas said. "I wish to stay longer...at least for a short time."

There was silence for a time, then the nurse reluctantly nodded. "As long as you leave afterward, since they will also need a good night's sleep. You may return tomorrow at 9 a.m., which is when visiting hours begin."

"Thank you," Barnabas returned with a grateful smile. "Please go with Randall, Julia. I will rejoin you shortly."

Julia nodded in acknowledgment and departed, albeit reluctantly in spite of the fact that it would have been too painful for her to have stayed and watched the happy domestic scene—mainly because she was not a part of it…and it now seemed as if she never would be, no matter how much she may have wished it.

Randall had handed the baby to Roxanne before he left; she then opened her nightgown and put the child to her right breast, encouraging her to suck. A short time later little Rose began to do so, eventually nursing strongly and for at least twenty minutes. Roxanne was so happy that she began to cry, tears slowly making their way down her cheeks. Barnabas reached to brush one cheek with a finger.

"Darling, why are you crying?"

"I'm so happy, Barnabas. So very happy. I have you here with me, and our beautiful little girl. There is only one other thing I could possibly wish for…" Her voice trailed off.

"I know, beloved. I wish it too—and if at all possible, I intend to see to it that we _are_ actually man and wife one day." He brought her free hand to his lips, then kissed it and put it on his cheek. "I shall only be able to stay for a few days, but I plan to see you every day that I am here. That I can promise you," he assured her.

A short time later the baby, glutted with milk, released her mother's breast and fell back in her arms, already asleep. Roxanne asked Barnabas to hand her a towel from the tray just out of her reach, put it and then the baby over her shoulder to burp her. Once that was done, she reached for his hand and put it on her cheek while the baby rested in her lap.

"I don't want you to go, my darling, even though I know you must. The only reason I can stand it now is the fact that you will return tomorrow. Until then, give me a kiss goodbye." She reached to put her arms around his neck and they kissed, sharing a lingering and tenderly passionate interlude. "Now, if you would kiss little Rose…" She lifted the baby up for her father's kiss; he tenderly kissed the child's forehead and stroked her hair, then reluctantly turned to go. "I will see you tomorrow, beloved."

"I will be waiting, my love–most impatiently." Barnabas kept Roxanne and the baby in sight as long as possible, having no idea it would be so hard to leave, but knowing he had to while he still could.

Julia was alone when he came out. "Where is Randall?" he inquired.

"He went to get a copy of the birth certificate for you," she explained. "He'll be back in a little while." She was quiet for a time, then said, "Do you really want me to be your child's godmother that much?"

"I do," he confirmed. "But not unless you wish to do so. Roxanne and I don't want to force it upon you."

Julia winced inwardly at the painful reference, then returned, "You wouldn't be forcing it on me; I just wanted to make sure it was what you really wanted to do."

"Of course," he assured her. "I would never have mentioned it otherwise."

"Then I would be most honored to accept," she smiled through tears of both happiness and pain.

"Thank you, Julia," he murmured softly, embracing her affectionately since they were alone. "I will tell Roxanne tomorrow." They stood together in each other's arms, her head resting on his chest over his heart for a time before he released her. "I would like to think that if my real sister Sarah had lived, that she would have been like you," he told her, once again prompting tears. He knew she had to be experiencing very deep feelings because Julia did not cry easily—or at least she never had that he could recall.

"Thank you, Barnabas," she whispered, almost too quietly for him to hear. "I'm very glad that you think so."

A short time later she stepped back and turned away from him, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief before turning to face him again. By the time she had composed herself, Randall had returned.

"Are you all right, Dr. Collins?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Julia assured him. "Barnabas just asked me to be his child's godmother."

"That's wonderful. Congratulations," he told her.

"Thank you. Do you have the copy of the birth certificate, Barnabas?"

"Yes. Randall just gave it to me. We must go now and check into a hotel, then have dinner," he suggested.

"I won't hear of it. You shall stay with me. I have plenty of room," Randall insisted. "I won't take No for an answer, either."

Barnabas sighed. "In that case, we would be honored to accept your hospitality…Randall."

"Besides, it won't be so lonely without Roxy if I have you two staying over," the younger man finished.

"It is always lonely without Roxanne," Barnabas remarked softly, so only Randall could hear. He smiled upon noting the love in the other man's voice and on his face, sensing that whatever else Barnabas Collins was, the man truly loved his sister.

"Well, she'll be home in a couple of days," he told him. "Let's go get you settled in now." With that, the three returned to their carriage, still waiting outside, returning to the Drew home and having the housekeeper prepare their rooms while they went out to eat.

Upon their return, he bade Julia good-night, then walked Barnabas to his own room, just down the hall from hers. "I put you in this room," he told the other man when they reached the door. "It adjoins Roxy's and what will be the baby's room—just in case you wish to be with her… them… once she comes home."

"Thank you," Barnabas replied gratefully.

"It's the least I can do," Randall dismissed. "And I want you to know that I have no objections to your relationship with Roxy as long as you treat her and the baby right."

"I fully intend to," Barnabas assured him. _At least to the fullest possible extent,_ he finished in his mind.

"Glad to hear it. Good night now."

"Good night." With that, Randall took his leave and allowed Barnabas to retire. It took him a while to actually fall asleep, of course, but this time he really had something to wake up for. He lay in bed thinking over the events of the day, particularly the moment when he had first held his child in his arms, then fell asleep with a smile after once again reliving the tenderly passionate kiss he had shared with his beloved Roxanne, the child's mother, before they had reluctantly parted.

It was Julia who was the most deeply affected by the action Barnabas had taken. It had been Heaven to feel the gentle strength of his arms around her and her head resting over his heart; she could have stayed there forever counting his heartbeats as other people counted sheep–but it had ended all too soon. Their times alone together always seemed to end too soon, the times when she could simply hold him and pretend that he belonged to her, if only for a brief time.

But she had to face reality; Barnabas belonged to Roxanne, not her—and from the looks of things, he always would. Even if they broke up one day, their child, beautiful little Julia Rose, her namesake and goddaughter, would bind them together because she was a symbol of the love he had shared with Roxanne. However, Julia had been around Barnabas long enough to be able to tell whether he was truly in love or simply infatuated. Most of the time it was the latter, but it had been different with Roxanne. He had not been kidding when he had told her that he hadn't felt this way about a woman since Josette…and Julia knew that he had truly loved _her_.

The majority of women Barnabas had been involved with had resembled Josette to some degree, particularly Maggie Evans, but Roxanne was different in that sense, too. For example, her looks—or more accurately, her fiery reddish-gold hair, almost reminiscent of Julia herself at that age—being only one. Maybe it was her overall personality or appearance which had attracted him, not simply one aspect of it. Roxanne was also psychic, having the ability to sense things or get visions simply by touching articles owned by given people.

It was unlikely that she would get a straight answer, even by asking Barnabas himself just what it was which had attracted him to Roxanne. But there had to be a reason why. After all, she was the only woman he had fallen in love with in two time bands; the others hadn't even lasted through one. Besides, who could tell what prompted a man and woman to fall in love? Roxanne had even been willing to die for him and then rise again to be his vampire bride for all eternity. If it hadn't been for Angelique taking control of her when she had actually become one of the Undead…through an action instigated by the former, of course—it would have happened.

Thankfully Julia had been able to break his vampiric curse through medical means, enabling Barnabas to pursue Roxanne as a normal man and father a child…the cause of all her heartache now. But deep down, she couldn't blame either of them. Roxanne, after all, was just a sheltered young girl and Barnabas was her first love. Julia knew from experience that first love was often the strongest kind, prompting the person or persons to do things they would not ordinarily do…in essence, go where angels feared to tread.

Barnabas was a sophisticated older man with impeccable Old World manners, particularly when it regarded his treatment of women. The fact that he was also so damnably good-looking didn't help matters either—especially as far as Julia was concerned. A combination of looks and charm was irresistible to men and women alike. Barnabas had always had a penchant for lovely young women, most of whom were in their early to mid-twenties…but even if he _had_ chosen her (Julia), there would still have been (at least technically) over a century between them in age.

Even now, he looked to only be in his mid- to late 40s—the only positive aspect of his age having been frozen in 1795 when the furiously jealous Angelique had placed the vampiric curse on him. But this romance with Roxanne didn't seem nearly as much like his usual infatuations with young girls, although it had certainly started out the same. So many times Julia had had been sorely tempted to slap Barnabas silly because he had been making such a total spectacle of himself with women (girls, really) who were most likely attracted to him because of either his looks, his money or the Collins name, if not all three.

Julia knew that for a romantic relationship to endure, a lot more was necessary…sharing both good times and bad, accepting the loved one, warts and all, unconditionally—remaining loyal, no matter what, helping them when- and however they could. She had done all those things for Barnabas in the five years they had known each other…and what did she have to show for it? Five years of heartache and loneliness, her payback for having been foolish enough to commit the cardinal sin for a doctor: falling in love with her patient.

_But I'm not just a doctor, damn it, _Julia protested. _I'm a woman…every bit as much as Roxanne, and then some! If Barnabas could just once_ _think with his head instead of his hormones, he would have seen that long ago! _

Oh well, no sense torturing herself over what might have been; it wouldn't get her anywhere but upset. At least she had a close friendship with Barnabas; some women never even had that much of a relationship with the man they loved. If that was all that was to be granted to her, she must make the most of it and cherish all they had shared—and _did_ share—together, even if it wasn't what she would have preferred. What mattered was Barnabas' happiness…and however painful it may be, it was her duty to see that it continued, if only for his sake.

Two days later, everyone came home from the hospital, Roxanne and the new baby in tow. Randall had told the new parents that he had arranged for the photographer, Roland Seagram, to arrive at 1 p.m. at the Drew home for the family portrait. It was presently 10:30 a.m. and they were about halfway home.

"In fact, he might even be early. I hope we don't keep him waiting too long," the young lawyer remarked, riding his horse next to the carriage where Barnabas, Julia, Roxanne and the baby rode.

"Oh, I'm certain he'll wait, considering how much you're paying him," Roxanne remarked.

"You know it always costs more to do family portraits than individual ones, Roxy," Randall reminded her. "Besides, I'm not paying for all of it—just half. Barnabas insisted on paying for the other half."

Roxanne looked at her lover, stunned; Barnabas simply smiled and nodded. "It was the least I could do after all you have endured for my sake, beloved." Her raised her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly, although Roxanne sensed that he wanted to do far more…but it would have to wait until they were alone.

"I would do anything for you, my darling," she whispered so only he could hear—then they resumed their previous position with Barnabas in the middle between the two women, one arm around each of their shoulders. Roxanne had settled her head on his left shoulder, the sleeping child held securely but lovingly in her arms. Julia envied her the ability to openly show her love for Barnabas. Worst of all was the fact that the younger woman knew that he truly belonged to her in spite of his ersatz marriage to Valerie/Angelique. But she nonetheless treasured the feel of his nearness and the gentle strength of his arm around her shoulders.

A short time later she noticed that Roxanne had fallen asleep, but she herself remained awake during the entire trip home from the hospital. Upon their arrival home at eleven o'clock, everyone got inside and prepared themselves for the portrait; Barnabas went off with Randall while Julia helped Roxanne prepare herself and baby Julia Rose.

It was at least two hours before everyone was ready, but they were glad to see that there was still half an hour before Seagram was due to arrive. As it turned out, it was he who was late. He finally arrived just past one-thirty…but once there, Seagram wasted no time setting up. Randall had told him there were to be six portraits altogether: one of the new family, including Julia and Randall; the new parents with baby Julia Rose; one of each parent by themselves; one of the couple themselves together, and finally one of little Rose by herself, propped up on pillows.

It took a while for Barnabas to tear his eyes off Roxanne, slender again and clad in a blue gauze dress trimmed with lace and matching bows in her impeccably styled auburn hair. The lower half of the sleeves down to the points on her hands and the upper half of the bodice were lace, each fitting her like a second skin, but the skirt was full, three petticoats billowing it out. The collar was scalloped lace and buttoned with pearl buttons almost to her chin. Gold-and-diamond earrings sparkled in her ears.

"You are lovely, my darling," Barnabas told her sincerely.

"And you are very handsome, my love," Roxanne returned sincerely, taking in his crisp white shirt, smart black suit with its perfectly tied cravat and matching shoes. "But we must not keep Mr. Seagram waiting."

Barnabas sighed but knew she was right, recalling how long photography sessions usually were, particularly when more than one subject was involved—frequently an all-day affair. Seagram finally decided to do the portraits as follows: first, the new parents with the baby, then the individual portraits, the couple's portrait, the one of the entire family, and lastly, the one of the baby by herself.

Seagram positioned the couple on the small couch in the living room, the baby in Roxanne's lap. Both new parents were beaming with happiness and pride; Barnabas even had one arm around Roxanne, but where it couldn't be seen easily—down near the curve of her waist. He was very tempted to tickle her on that very spot, where he knew she was the most ticklish, but tactfully refrained…at least until the last photo session. The couple was standing on the sidelines watching their daughter's picture being taken at various angles when he lightly stroked Roxanne's ticklish spot—once, twice, three times. She endured it the first time, squirmed the second, and finally, squealed _and_ squirmed.

"Barnabas, _stop_ it," she giggled. "You know I'm ticklish there!"

Now that he had gotten a proper response, her lover smiled mischievously, kissed her ear and acceded to her wishes.

It was late afternoon before the session was over; before Seagram left, Randall and Barnabas pooled their money and the younger man paid him for services rendered, including a 10 bonus for actions above and beyond the call of duty…specifically, his patience and understanding when the baby fussed or fretted for one reason or another—if not to be changed, to be fed, prompting her mother to take time out to feed her. He departed a short time later, around six-thirty, telling them it would take at least two weeks, if not up to a month, before he could complete all the daguerreotypes. Upon completion, however, he would deliver them to the Drew home, then they (or Randall) would contact those most concerned and let them know.

Late that evening, after dinner and little Julia Rose had been put down for the night after another feeding, then Randall and Julia had each retired to their own rooms, Barnabas joined Roxanne in hers, which adjoined the baby's and his own. He carefully locked both the doors leading into either room, leaving open only the connecting door between his and her rooms. He then approached where she sat at her vanity in her silk and lace nightgown, kneeling down on one knee to slide his arms around her from behind, warmly kissing either her throat or the nape of her neck.

She sighed and shivered deliciously, the sigh turning into a soft moan when her beloved's hands reached to gently cradle her breasts and gently knead her nipples. "Oh, Barnabas, my darling…"

"Roxanne, my love, it has been so very difficult to keep my hands off you. This afternoon–the entire day, in fact—has seemed an eternity until we could be alone. Please do not deny me the pleasure of touching you, caressing you, holding you…"

"But you know we cannot make love again for six weeks," she gently, sadly reminded him, covering his hands with hers to make sure they didn't wander further until she decided otherwise.

"I know—but perhaps you can satisfy me another way," he suggested.

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.

"Before I tell you, I must give you the option of refusing should you find the idea repugnant."

"My dearest love, nothing we do sexually could possibly be repugnant to me," Roxanne assured him. "But tell me what you mean, nonetheless." When he finished, she smiled and nodded. "That sounds like a perfect alternative until we can do it the regular way again."

He was surprised but pleased, also suggesting both kinds of oral sex as another option. In this way, the lovers' intimate contact would not have to stop simply because there could be no "ordinary" sexual relations between them. Again, Roxanne insisted to her lover that none of the intimacies they had shared could ever be called ordinary; more likely, _extra_ordinary.

Upon joining her in her bed, he snuggled close to her, lifting her nightgown to her waist and baring her swollen breasts with their extra-sensitive nipples to his loving touch. After parting her cheeks with one hand, he joined with her via her "back door". It was somewhat reminiscent of their regular intimacies…and she was pleased to note very little pain by comparison to the first time he had claimed her the regular way.

It might even be possible—if they were careful—for him to bring her off either manually (with his fingers) or orally. They would try both, and whichever offered less discomfort for her, they would do whenever she felt up to it. Meanwhile, their love play and this rear-entry joining would have to suffice. Many times Roxanne would marvel at her lover's appetite and stamina; up to this point, she had been certain he was still having regular conjugal relations with his wife, Valerie…but Barnabas had assured her that that was not the case. At least not nearly as much as she might think.

"We, in essence, share the same bed, but there has been little sexual contact between us, even since our supposed reconciliation. Usually I only give in when I cannot think of any more reasons to refuse."

"But why are you so distant, so estranged from her? She has her faults, certainly, but is still a very beautiful and no doubt passionate woman, if overly jealous and possessive."

"Therein lies the problem," Barnabas told her as they cuddled together upon their climaxing. "Valerie is far _too_ jealous and possessive. The rest is much too complicated to explain in terms you would understand. Suffice it to say that many times I myself cannot understand the…unfortunate relationship between us."

"Do you ever intend to tell her about little Rose or the fact that she is our child? Has she not ever confessed to you her desire to bear you a child herself?" Roxanne turned to face Barnabas, her auburn head resting over his heart, her arms locked around him.

"I do not think that would be wise," he told her. "Yes, Valerie—has always…desired children, but is–unable to have them, so she might attempt to take little Rose from you, particularly if she knew that Rose was my child."

"We could not—even _share_ Rose with her?" Roxanne suggested incredulously.

"No," Barnabas declared from over her head. "Valerie would not be content to share."

Roxanne sighed. "Then we will simply have to continue our correspondence as we have been and I will keep you up-to-date on Rose's latest doings."

"It would be very much appreciated," her bedmate remarked. "Now we must sleep. Julia and I must make preparations to return to Collinsport and the Old House within 24 hours."

Roxanne kissed him passionately. "If only you didn't have to go."

"Unfortunately, I must. All we can do is continue as we have been until I can devise a way for us to be together with our child without repercussions." He yawned deeply. "No more talking now." Barnabas gave her a final lingering kiss, then they slept spoon-fashion until morning.

It took three weeks for the daguerreotypes to be completed; both Roxanne and Randall rhapsodized over them once they arrived—and after Julia and Barnabas saw them, they understood why. Since Angelique had gone into Collinsport (again, with her Gypsy sidekick, Laszlo), Barnabas felt safe in going over to Collinwood to both pick up his latest letter from Roxanne and the pictures about a month after little Rose's birth.

He had requested one of himself with Roxanne and little Rose, as well as one of Roxanne by herself, which she had signed, "To My Darling Barnabas—All My Love Forever, Your Roxanne–December 7, 1840" and the one with baby Rose by herself. On the back of that was written, "Julia Rose Collins, Born December 3, 1840." On the family portrait, she had written, "Father, Mother and Child–Barnabas, Roxanne and Julia Rose, December 7, 1840."

Julia had gotten a picture of the baby with her own letter; on the back was written, "To Godmother Julia Collins – Miss Julia Rose Collins, Born December 3, 1840." She had also requested one of Barnabas by himself. (It was too painful for her to consider any others.) Randall's latest telegram had said that they could get more copies of the pictures if they wished; he just needed to know which ones and how many of each—then to allow sufficient time for them to be made and send sufficient payment for them. Now their only problem would be to keep them hidden from Valerie/Angelique.

Like most new parents, Barnabas and Roxanne wanted to show off their child to all and sundry, but for obvious reasons, they had to keep their pride and joy among themselves. Even as much as they wished they could, they still had to keep the new arrival secret from both families—Roxanne's and the bulk of the Collins family. Only certain trusted friends (and Quentin Collins) would know, other than those directly involved…mostly for their own safety.

Upon his and Julia's return to Collinsport, Barnabas explained as best he could how things had gone in New York; Angelique seemed skeptical but did not refute his claims…at least not at that point in time. Both he and Julia were apprehensive because they knew what that usually meant, so they simply prepared themselves as best they could and decided to live their lives–again, as best they could.

Their lives went on without incident for the next several weeks…or at least none they couldn't handle. It was shortly after the New Year 1841 arrived that Julia had another disturbing experience with Laszlo that gave her the distinct impression that Valerie/Angelique either knew or suspected what they had been trying to keep from her the last several months. Both Barnabas and Julia believed that Laszlo had most likely been the one to find out, then tell his mistress. But since Angelique had not confronted either of them, both had assumed she was ignorant of the true situation—at least at first.

Up to this point they had been certain that their tracks had been sufficiently covered; perhaps it had been through one of Laszlo's mysterious Gypsy rituals or even one of Angelique's own witchcraft or voodoo rituals that they had discovered the truth. But just _how much_ did they know, and how long had they known it? Both Barnabas and Julia agreed to send a telegram to Randall Drew, asking if he, Roxanne and little Rose were still safe and well…and would both worry until they heard back—_if_ they heard back.

This time it was shortly after Barnabas had left Collinwood with his latest letter and the pictures of himself, Roxanne and the baby; Julia had walked him as far as the road which led to the Old House, then turned to head back to Collinwood. She had barely started when she felt a familiar rough hand bring her up short.

"I thought I told you to stay away from Barnabas Collins," Laszlo remarked ominously.

"Why should I? We're not at the Old House now, and it was there that I'm supposed to be banished from," Julia pointedly reminded him. "Also, I thought I told you that no one is going to tell me when or for how long I can see my own brother."

"What did you see him about?"

"Not that it's any of your affair, but we received some correspondence and photos from some friends and were discussing them," Julia returned, giving her unwelcome inquisitor a hard look, her voice holding a bite that not even Laszlo could miss.

"Did the correspondence and photos have anything to do with the recent arrival of the child of one Roxanne Drew, presently residing in New York City with her brother, noted lawyer Randall Drew?"

Julia's face became expressionless. "We know them, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they are the ones we heard from."

"I believe they were," Laszlo accused. "In fact, I even believe that you and your 'brother' know the Drews far better than either of you have ever let on. And isn't it true that Barnabas was romantically involved with Roxanne Drew for a time?"

"Yes, he was—but that ended shortly after Angelique returned," Julia replied coolly.

"Are you sure of that?" Laszlo threw back, his cold dark eyes seemingly boring holes through Julia, although she never flinched. "From what I understand, Roxanne Drew never married, yet she has a newborn child. Would you happen to know who the father of her child is?"

"I have no idea who the father of Roxanne's child is," Julia claimed.

"I think you know all too well," Laszlo contradicted. "In fact, I have every reason to believe that you know that she and Barnabas Collins were lovers…and that _he_ is the father of her child. Also, that you know that they have in fact been both secretly corresponding and seeing each other behind Valerie's back for the last several months."

"Your belief doesn't make it so," Julia snapped, beginning to lose patience with this poking, prying fool. "How do you know that Roxanne didn't have either another lover or even marry secretly, then lose her husband a few weeks after the wedding, having become pregnant in that short span of time?"

"You never quit, do you?" Laszlo snapped back. "And what makes you think I haven't already told Valerie all I know? I even know that the real reason you and Barnabas went to New York so suddenly was to be with Roxanne Drew when she gave birth—to _his_ child. Now you and I both know how much Valerie has desired a child…especially Barnabas Collins' child. If I feel it right to inform her of the baby's birth, it's quite likely that she could take the child for herself."

"And never mind how Roxanne or her brother might feel about it," Julia finished. "Never! That child belongs to Roxanne, and we intend to do everything in our power to see to it that the child _remains_ with her!"

"What makes you think that either of you can lift a finger to stop us?" Laszlo returned coldly. "Or that Barnabas Collins would willingly give up his own flesh and blood, even to save the life of the mother of his child, after waiting so long to become a father? I seriously doubt that, even if it means remaining with Valerie and raising the child with her acting as surrogate mother."

"You think you know so damn much," Julia snapped. "Well, you don't know half as much as you think you do! If you don't cease your harassment, I swear that we'll—"

"You'll what?" Laszlo challenged. "Get a lawyer, hired by the Collins money, to sue me? Possibly even the illustrious Randall Drew? Well, let me tell you right now, Miss Julia Collins, that you cannot bribe me and you cannot scare me. There isn't enough money in the entire Collins account to buy my silence…and what's more, there's nothing either you or Barnabas Collins can do to prevent me from telling Valerie everything!"

"Your threats don't scare us," Julia shot back. "And for your information, nothing Angelique can come up with will surprise us—because we know all her tricks."

"But you don't know all of mine," he warned.

"It's immaterial to us what you can or cannot do. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to Collinwood before it gets dark. Good afternoon." Julia's tone was frigid. "Now kindly release me—and it would be very much appreciated if you never came near us again."

Her arm was released but Laszlo gave this parting shot: "I wouldn't count on it if I were you. Good afternoon, Miss Collins." With that, the Gypsy disappeared and Julia thought gratefully, _He's gone. Good riddance to bad rubbish! But as soon as I can, I must speak to Barnabas again. If Laszlo or_ _Angelique knows half as much as he claims, we're in for big trouble!_

For the moment, however, there wasn't anything further to be done, so Julia simply headed back to Collinwood, her supper, and finally her bed.

The next day Julia sent Randall Drew a telegram, asking him to reply right away…or as soon as he possibly could, whatever was the quickest. Even at that, both she and Barnabas would feel as though it were an eternity.

"How long do you think it will take before Randall responds?" the latter asked worriedly.

"I couldn't say. It depends on how busy he is," Julia replied.

"Or whether or not he is _able_ to respond," Barnabas countered morosely.

"Don't talk like that," Julia gently admonished. "We'll hear back from him—and I'll let you know the moment I do."

"But it will not be easy to wait," Barnabas pointed out, worried sick for the safety of both Roxanne and little Rose, but doing his best to conceal it.

Julia, however, knew him too well to be fooled for long…but at the same time, she knew that once Barnabas had made up his mind, it was next to impossible to change it. "I know," Julia tried to soothe him. "But we must hope for the best."

Barnabas sighed gloomily but said, "I am attempting to do so."

"I've got to get back to Collinwood before I'm caught here again," she told him. "I'm sure they're fine, but I'll bring you the telegram as soon as it arrives."

"Please do," was all he said, then turned to gaze into the fire.

That was her cue to leave…and though she expected it at any moment, Laszlo did not accost her again. It was just as likely that he and Angelique were somewhere plotting something as anything else, but at present all that mattered was that she was able to reach Collinwood safely—and to her delight, the very next morning, one of the servants…a young chambermaid–brought her a telegram. Julia hoped it was from whom she thought and that it contained good news.

"Telegram for you, Miss Julia. It just arrived."

"Thank you, Courtney," Julia responded graciously.

The girl smiled, bowed and departed—then Julia tore open the telegram once the door was closed behind her.

**JULIA**

**WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONCERN BUT WE ARE ALL FINE HERE STOP WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN STOP ROXANNE SENDS HER LOVE TO BARNABAS STOP BABY ROSE IS THRIVING STOP IF ANYTHING HAPPENS I ASSURE YOU THAT I WILL NOTIFY YOU IMMEDIATELY STOP HOPE YOU ARE BOTH WELL STOP TAKE CARE**

**RD**

In spite of herself, Julia breathed a sigh of relief. This should ease Barnabas' mind, if only a little. She went downstairs, grabbed her cloak and threw it around her shoulders, walking briskly toward the Old House and Barnabas…or so she believed.

When Barnabas had awakened that morning, he had already decided to go to Collinwood, Angelique or no Angelique. He had not heard from Julia as to the status of Randall, Roxanne and little Rose, and just imagining what horrors they could be subjected to simply because they loved him gave him nightmares; only out of sheer exhaustion had he been granted a few hours sleep early that morning.

He _had_ to find out if Julia had heard anything yet…and if there had been no word, he didn't intend to budge from Collinwood until there was. Only Julia's frantic arguing had kept him from packing and calling for a carriage–at least at that point in time—but he couldn't stay at the Old House another moment. He had to have some air or suffocate. He had rarely had bouts of claustrophobia, but was having one big-time now. If he happened to run into Julia while he was out, all the better.

They met midway between the two homes, and both were equally surprised and pleased that they were unlikely to be disturbed out in the open, as they were.

"Julia!" he exclaimed.

"Barnabas!" she answered upon hearing his voice. "I received an answer from Randall Drew!"

Barnabas' face broke out in an involuntary smile. "What did he say?"

"Read it for yourself," she responded, hoping this would make him feel better.

Barnabas read silently, breathing a sigh of relief upon finishing. His loved ones were still all right…at least for the moment. He could only hope things would stay that way.

"That certainly takes a load off my mind," he remarked with a smile. "One can only hope it remains such." He didn't let himself think that it might be a scheme of Angelique's to trap him by faking a message from Randall Drew; he _must_ believe that it was genuine and that they were all safe and well.

"Have you heard from Roxanne again yet?"

"Not yet, but I just sent your…and my…last answer two days ago. Probably be another two or three days before she answers."

"That will be the true test," he informed her.

Julia sighed but nodded in agreement, if only to humor him. Anything to keep him from dwelling on the safety of his lover and child. If only for Barnabas' sake, she hoped the telegram was genuine and that all was well in the Drew household—but Angelique was too clever, too cunning and devious for them to breathe _too_ easily. Since their association had begun, it had sometimes felt as though an axe had been suspended over their necks and the least wrong move could bring it down on them; they never knew from one time to the next what she might be plotting. It had been too long since she had pulled something.

They were both pleased and apprehensive; things were going entirely too well. And for this reason, they had to be ready for literally anything since Angelique had been overly secretive for at least the past two weeks. What deviltry could she possibly be planning? Neither Barnabas nor Julia knew and neither wanted to speculate.

Little did Barnabas know what was awaiting him at the Old House…

Upon arrival at the Old House, Barnabas hung up his cloak and headed for the parlor and his chair by the fire. It looked as though he would have to stoke the fire again, but it would be worth it. After the news he had just received, he felt as though the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders—literally almost as light as a feather. He sat for a time, just gazing into the fire and listening to the quiet. In spite of his almost euphoric state, apprehension began creeping in. It was almost _too_ quiet. Ordinarily he was glad whenever Angelique was away, but this time he found himself wondering where she was. When he couldn't stand the quiet any longer, Barnabas sighed and got up to go find her.

He looked all over the house, deciding to leave the bedroom for the last—but he had looked everywhere else, so that was the only place she could possibly be. However, he knew what she generally wanted whenever he found her there…and he preferred to avoid that whenever possible. To his stunned surprise, he walked in on the small adjoining dressing room–or what had been the dressing room. It now resembled a nursery! What was all this? What was going on?

"Angelique? Angelique, where are you?" he called.

"Oh, Barnabas, you spoiled my surprise," she returned half-petulantly, half-laughingly.

"Surprise? What surprise?" he asked, not knowing what in Heaven's name she was talking about. Was this why she had been so secretive the last two weeks?

"The nursery, silly," she chided with a laugh. "The nursery for the baby."

"Baby? What baby? Are you pregnant?" he asked, not wanting to believe that she actually knew about little Rose.

"I wish," she sighed. "No; it's for little Rose."

All the blood left his face and he was stunned speechless at her statement.

"Barnabas, why did you not tell me? You know how I love children," she chided, her tone pleasant and cheerful, if somewhat scolding. "You _must_ bring her here one of these days, let her spend the weekend with us!"

"I have no idea what you mean," he claimed, sure that this was another bluff designed to make him confess as to what he had been concealing all these months. One of the few ways she could possibly have found out was if Laszlo had discovered it and told her…or had she found it out on her own?

"My husband, surely you aren't going to deny it," she countered silkily. "You know how thorough I am. I had Laszlo check hospital records for the last six months—and imagine my shock when we found an entry for December 3, 1840, of a 6-pound, 13-ounce baby girl having been born to a Barnabas and Roxanne Collins at 6:35 p.m. that evening. May I ask when you decided to commit bigamy?"

By now it was obvious to Barnabas that Valerie/Angelique knew about little Rose and had known for some time; otherwise she could not have had the opportunity to fix up this room as a nursery. At the same time, he was most reluctant to reveal anything more than what she already knew…provided she didn't know it all, right from the start. But she couldn't, he was convinced of that. He and Julia had been far too careful, covered their tracks too well. He had to feel his way carefully, try to find out just how much she knew and how long she had known it.

"Very well; so you know," he reluctantly admitted. "How long have you known?"

"Not long," she confessed. "Just long enough to buy the things to fix up the nursery. What did you think I was doing in Bangor last month and Collinsport last week?"

If that was the case, Barnabas knew that that had to be at least a month, if not longer… and no matter how calm and rational she seemed, he knew that he couldn't afford to take her at face value. At least not yet.

"Do you have a picture of the baby?" Angelique asked. "I bet she's beautiful."

Barnabas nodded reluctantly.

"Do you think Roxanne would be willing to let us have little Rose for a weekend?" Angelique entreated.

"I don't know; I would have to ask her," he forced out. Barnabas had to admit that Angelique was a consummate actress, but he didn't buy her performance for a minute. She had to have something up her sleeve, and he vowed to find out what before he dared admit to anything further.

"I was…hesitant about trusting you because of your–past actions regarding my… involvements with other women," he ventured carefully, because Angelique's wrath had been incited with less. "As for the 'bigamy' matter, that was simply something I told the nurse to enable me to see Roxanne and be with her as she gave birth."

Angelique frowned but remained silent on that subject, choosing to answer his first statement. "You must admit that all too often, you have given me good reason not to trust you," she pointed out coolly.

"Not always," he countered. "In addition, I had–no idea you planned to return and seek a reconciliation, so I…began the romantic relationship with Roxanne. I was also—unaware that she had become pregnant until roughly a month before the baby was born. In fact, I didn't even know where Roxanne had gone for a long time." He sighed, then continued when he noted that Angelique was listening avidly.

"The last time I…saw her, we–discussed the possibility of telling you and offering you the chance to share the child with us. However, you are not generally…willing to share, and I told her as much." Again, he spoke carefully, watching warily for any signs of anger.

There were none; at least not at this point. "I have always tended to be—selfish with the things and people I love," she quietly admitted. Barnabas knew that "selfish" was the proverbial understatement of the century, but remained from comment on that subject.

"We would…only consider sharing Rose with you if you gave your word that you would not attempt to–abduct the child. We…cannot risk it otherwise, even temporarily."

"I understand," she acknowledged, although Barnabas was still half-convinced that she was plotting just that and would implement her scheme when they least expected it. He dared not bring Rose here, at least not for anything but a supervised visit…which by necessity, would have to take place in his or Julia's presence. But he could not be sure how Angelique would react when he put it to her.

"There is one other condition," Barnabas informed her.

"What is it?"

"When I am not present, you must allow Julia to supervise your visits with Rose. That is the only way Roxanne would ever permit you to spend time with her. Julia will also report to me after the visits are over and I will keep Roxanne informed." He knew how Angelique disliked Julia, so if she passed this test, he would seriously consider discussing the possibility of bringing little Rose for a supervised visit with her "stepmother."

There was silence for a long time, then Angelique nodded. "I…agree. Whenever little Rose is here, the banishment order will be lifted."

"Very well," Barnabas conceded. "I will inform Roxanne at the first opportunity, then I will let you know her answer–and you will meet Rose as soon as possible after that. But if there is any attempt to renege on your promise, visiting privileges will be withdrawn."

He could only hope he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life by agreeing to such a thing, but the only way to find out if someone was trustworthy was to trust them. Just the same, this was his child they were talking about here. If anything happened to her, neither Randall nor Roxanne would ever forgive him…nor would he ever forgive himself. There would only be this one chance; if Angelique betrayed him, baby Rose would be lost forever and it would be his fault.

Naturally the others were all every bit as skeptical as Barnabas had been and were even fearful of the consequences should Angelique go back on her word, as she had done all too often in the past—but he argued that she had to be given the chance to prove herself. He had already laid down the law to her, he told Julia, and if she tried anything, privileges would be withdrawn, effective immediately.

"I can imagine how galling it must have been for her to have to agree to my being there," Julia remarked.

"No doubt," Barnabas agreed. "But it was either that or she would not see the child at all–and the nursery is so charming that it…deserves to be used."

By this time, Julia had been told in detail what the nursery looked like, and had to agree. "Have you discussed it with Roxanne yet?"

"I will in my next letter to her," Barnabas promised. "And she will discuss it with Randall."

"What do you think she's going to say?"

"I have no idea. Nor could I blame her if she decided against it," he replied. "This is the last thing I ever expected—to be put in the position of arguing in Angelique's behalf, you know?"

"And it will be your fault if anything goes wrong," Julia reminded him.

Barnabas winced at the thought but knew she was right. "I can only pray that nothing does," he returned feelingly.

Roxanne was reluctant, but agreed with Barnabas that Angelique had to be given the benefit of the doubt; she only hoped that they would be prepared in the event of a betrayal. He told her that all they could do was their best.

Angelique was ecstatic when Barnabas told her that Roxanne had agreed that he could bring little Rose back with him to Collinsport after his latest business trip to New York. It was coming up within the next two weeks, but deep down all were still apprehensive, and understandably so…but as the days passed, she continued to be as cheerful and pleasant as she had been for the last month or so. It was becoming more and more difficult for even Barnabas or Julia to take it at anything other than face value. The last thing he decided to do—at Julia's behest—was to make Angelique swear that Laszlo would not be allowed near the child, especially not alone, even for a moment.

Of course, how long they could expect either the renegade Gypsy or Angelique to honor their word, neither Barnabas nor Julia could have said; all they could do was live day by day and keep a sharp eye on Angelique, particularly when she was with little Rose for any length of time.

The trip went well; once again Barnabas and Roxanne spent as much time as possible together, particularly the nights—and by this time, she was recovered from her pregnancy, so they were able to make love the regular way again, although they still did the oral, manual or "back door" sex at least once during their times together.

But this parting was different; this time little Rose would be accompanying her father.

Roxanne accompanied them out to the carriage, carrying the baby's suitcase; the bassinet and such were already packed in trunks for the trip to Collinsport. "I'm going to miss her so much," Roxanne told him. "Please keep a sharp eye on Rose as much as you can, Barnabas… and have Julia do so as well. I could not bear it if anything happened to her."

"I assure you, I will, my darling," her lover told her. "We must go now. I will keep you informed." He situated himself in the carriage and reached for the baby; Roxanne reluctantly relinquished the child after kissing her silky head and lovingly caressing her cheek. With that, he told the carriage driver to go to Grand Central and they were off. Roxanne stood and watched them until the carriage turned the corner at the end of the street, then went back into the house. It was going to seem so empty without Rose; she would pray every night that her precious baby would be safely returned to her until they were together again.

Julia met Barnabas at the Bangor station; it took several hours to get back to Collinsport and the Old House where Angelique was anxiously awaiting their arrival. But since little Rose was still nursing, it would be necessary to put her on part mother's milk, part formula for the duration of her visit. Roxanne had sent several days' supply, but Angelique had assured him that there would be plenty to keep the baby well-fed…she would see to it. He would not put it past her to put something in it to sway the child, but could not voice his suspicions, simply keep a close but discreet eye on them as much as possible.

It was around seven-thirty in the evening when they arrived at the Old House. Once the carriage was unpacked, the trunks unloaded and all the baggage carried inside, Barnabas went in search of his wife.

"Angelique!" he called. "We have returned."

"In here, Barnabas," she called from the parlor.

They left the luggage in the foyer for the time being; Julia simply followed Barnabas into the parlor, where Angelique stood with her back to them…then turned as they entered the room. Her face lit up when she saw the pink bundle in her husband's arms; she extended her arms toward him and he hesitated–briefly—before handing the child over. "Oh, Barnabas, she's simply precious! She even has your eyes," the woman positively gushed. "And her cute little button nose…" Her voice trailed off as she kissed the baby's forehead. "She's simply adorable—and such rosy cheeks! She's so _very _aptly named!"

Barnabas had never believed it possible that Angelique could look maternal, but she did now. He smiled in spite of himself at the tenderness in his wife's eyes as she looked upon the child. He even allowed himself a moment of regret that they had never been able to have children; if he'd had any inkling that she could be like this with a child, he might have at least considered suggesting that they adopt before this.

But it still remained to be seen how the visit would go; if it went well, they could continue them at the rate of at least one, if not two, a month…and if not supervised by him, by Julia. He was due to return Rose to Roxanne within the week, and would carefully note Angelique's reaction to parting with the child. He would also keep in even closer touch with his child's mother and make sure all was well on that end once their daughter was back with her.

But it was worse than any of them had feared. Angelique was planning something far more insidious than simply abducting little Rose—in fact, she intended to do absolutely nothing to hurt Barnabas' child, even if she did belong to another woman. What she _did_ intend to do, however, was use a special spell she had been saving for just such an occasion as this…a spell so that she herself would become pregnant—and what's more, she could even choose the sex of the child.

Barnabas already had a daughter by his paramour; now all he needed was a son by his legitimate wife. A son who would grow up to be a powerful warlock. Best of all, it would tie her to Barnabas even more closely. Of course, the last thing he wanted was any children from her, for he knew as well as she that she would be the one to control and manipulate them. He would simply be the means by which she had conceived. Which reminded her, it was time for his first session with her, should it take more than one night for her to become pregnant. But Angelique knew of a way to make it even more enjoyable…at least for herself. She would plant a suggestion in his mind that she was Roxanne—along with an almost insatiable desire for sex every time he came near her.

She even intended to speak to him with Roxanne's voice, and she would say:

_Barnabas, my darling… I just couldn't wait to see you again, and I want you with every fiber of my being, as you want me. Meet me in the bedroom so that we may satisfy those desires properly._

Now, if the spell worked as claimed, Barnabas would hear her voice in his mind, then be compelled to locate her quickly, for obvious reasons. Angelique laughed wickedly at the look that was surely to be on Barnabas' face once he learned he had been deceived … although she would make certain that he was unaware of the fact until it was too late.

In fact, the spell couldn't have worked better. The moment the momentarily off-guard Barnabas heard his beloved's voice—or what he believed to be her voice—summoning him to the bedroom, he realized that he felt the most intense sexual desire he had ever experienced. He also noted that his member was painfully hard and that his trousers felt tight, as though they were in a cloth prison…a prison from which he had to escape, and soon.

He couldn't help wondering how Roxanne could be here, but hoped she had come on a whim to surprise him. Even at that, he felt sure that she would have told Julia of her impending arrival. But that didn't matter now. All that mattered was locating her—and he knew just where to do that. He would find out the details later. He had bigger and better things on his mind.

He found her waiting in the bedroom in her lacy blue, low-cut nightgown, her lustrous red-gold hair flowing over her shoulders and back, a tender smile on her lips and her open arms beckoning to him. He almost ran to her, pulling her into his arms and pressing her lower body tightly against his; just feeling her warm, scented sweetness inflamed his passion almost beyond control.

Her head moved so that his lips could passionately caress her throat and neck even as his hands moved feverishly, intimately over her curves…then a moment later his hands wandered down to her buttocks, pressing them even tighter against his hardness. The next moment found him kissing her passionately, their tongues intertwining as intricately as they (he and the real Roxanne) ordinarily did—and the process of their undressing was every bit as rapid as usual.

Once that was accomplished, Barnabas carried the woman he believed to be his lover to bed and lowered her to the pillow; her arms pulled him down on top of her. As one hand parted her legs, he sought and found her wet heat, then stroked her highly sensitive center before withdrawing his hand; his iron-hard member entered her slick passage and his hips moved in time with hers, faster and harder, until he tensed against her and the explosion came, so intense as to be almost reminiscent of the eruption of an active volcano—and he found himself unable to stop for a long time.

When he finally did, they didn't rest long, for his desire was such that he had to have her again…and this joining was every bit as passionate. By the time they finished, both partners were so enervated that sleep came easily and quickly…at least for Barnabas.

Angelique forced herself to remain awake a while longer, having not shared such passionate, incredible sex with Barnabas since the height of their liaison in Martinique. She held her sleeping husband close in her arms, stroking his damp hair as her cheek rested on top of his head, savoring his nearness, the wonderful heat of his bare body entwined with hers. He no doubt believed he was sleeping in Roxanne's arms, which suited her just fine, at least for the moment. That was just what she wanted him to think, until and unless she said otherwise.

Barnabas awakened an interminable time later, feeling as though he had literally been put through the wringer. He noticed the woman beside him was every bit as naked as he was—and it was not who he had expected to see when she turned over to face him. He was stunned almost speechless at the sight.

"Angelique, what are you doing here? Where is Roxanne?"

"Still in New York," his wife stated simply. "You've made love to _me_ these last three days."

"I don't believe it! You must be holding her hostage somewhere and took her place before I awakened."

"I did no such thing, my husband," she assured him. Her sincerity was so obvious that it reached even him.

"Then it must have been one of your spells," he returned coldly.

"It was," she confirmed coolly.

"What did you do to me?" he asked. "As if I didn't know! It must have been some kind of aphrodisiac."

"Not only that," she amended. "It also had another secret ingredient."

"What kind of secret ingredient?" he demanded, keeping tight control of his temper.

"The kind which will enable _me_ to become pregnant," she informed him.

"Is that why you did it?" This time his tone could have frozen the very air.

"You know how much and how long I have wanted your child. That is the main reason why I did it. The other reason is because you wouldn't touch me otherwise. I had no choice." She reached for her robe and shrugged it on, tying the sash-belt around her slender waist, straightening her side of the bed before getting back onto it again.

"If you had a spell which would enable you to become pregnant, why did you not use it a long time ago?" Barnabas mirrored her actions.

"I wanted to keep it for just the right time," she explained.

"And I suppose that this was the right time?" he remarked dryly.

"Of course. I couldn't leave Rose to be an only child, could I?" Angelique's voice was deceptively silky.

"You don't care about that and you know it," he shot back. "You simply want someone else to control and manipulate. Because of that, it's quite unlikely that I would be allowed to have any influence on the child." When she remained silent, Barnabas took that as assent. "Have you any idea how that makes me feel?"

"All that matters to me right now is that I bear your child," she returned simply.

"Then all I am is a specimen sample to you," he returned even more coldly than before, if that were possible. "You would not even allow me to be a proper father to our child. It's more important that you groom him or her to be just like you. That's the main reason it never particularly bothered me that we never had children." Barnabas sighed.

"Even if you have a child as a result of our…sexual encounters, you cannot guarantee that I will be willing to give him or her my name, much less an inheritance. In fact, I'm seriously considering making Rose my sole heir."

"You wouldn't dare!" Angelique exclaimed. "Rose is not even your legitimate child!"

"If I acknowledge paternity and give her financial support, in that sense Rose is every bit as legitimate as any child you and I might have," Barnabas countered. "However, it remains to be seen whether or not you will actually become pregnant."

"Oh, I will," she told him confidently. "You need have no fear of that."

"What makes you so certain?" he demanded.

"Because I designed the spell that way," she answered with an almost smug air.

"I can imagine how Julia and Roxanne are going to react if _you_ become pregnant as well," her husband opined.

Barnabas smiled inwardly as Angelique clenched her jaw and her hands became tight fists, but knew that she knew as well as he what the other two women would say, what they would do…and he would not hesitate to tell them what she'd done—or attempted.

"Why don't we simply wait to tell them until it actually happens?" she suggested. "That should be soon enough, don't you think?"

"I suppose so," he conceded, at least for the time being. "But only until then."

"Very well," she agreed, almost too quietly, hoping she could think of something to once again change the odds in her favor, but having to go along with Barnabas' wishes for the present.

It took roughly three weeks to determine that Angelique had indeed become pregnant. In that time, Barnabas had been unable to come up with any explanations that he considered believable as to what had happened and how it had come about since his three-day induced liaison with his ersatz wife. How could he possibly explain to either Julia or Roxanne that Angelique had once again put a spell on him, _made_ him act as he had? If a story like that had been told to _him_, he probably wouldn't believe it either.

Since she was as aware of what Angelique was capable of as he, Julia _might_ believe him …but then again, she might not. And even as difficult as it would be to explain to Julia, Barnabas doubted he would ever be able to explain to Roxanne, particularly if she ever learned that Angelique was now pregnant. Once the time came, however—and he knew it _would_ come—Barnabas could only take his chances and hope for the best.

Julia was also likely to be the one to figure it out first, being a doctor, but Roxanne was the one he was most concerned about. If she got it into her head that he had been lying to her about his relationship with Angelique, she might deny him both visitation rights to little Rose as well as access to her and her bed…and he couldn't allow that to happen, whatever the cost.

As Barnabas had surmised, Julia figured it out first—but to his surprise, she wasn't as much inclined to believe him when he tried to explain himself as he had expected. She believed that it was just as likely for him to have been at least partially willing to go along with Angelique, as opposed to being totally unwilling to have "conjugal relations" with her, for it to have been so easy for her to get him into her bed again, then make love to her as he hadn't done since their interlude in Martinique. After all, Angelique _was_ a witch…and Barnabas was just a mortal man now.

He knew better, but saw no way to convince either of them. They would 1) have to be a man and 2) have experienced what he had with Angelique to truly understand or believe him. Of course, Barnabas couldn't say he was _totally_ innocent, not all the time, but this time he was—and would swear as much on the proverbial stack of Bibles if that was what it took to make either of them believe him.

"Don't get me wrong, Barnabas," Julia tried to comfort him. "No one knows better than we do what Angelique is capable of, and I have no doubt that she must have put a spell on you, but…"

"You don't believe I was completely unwilling," Barnabas returned morosely.

"Well, she_ is_ your wife…not to mention very beautiful. If nothing else, you cannot deny either of those things, at least not technically," Julia pointed out matter-of-factly in spite of her pain at the knowledge of same—not to mention the knowledge of Angelique's pregnancy, however it had come about. The point was, it had happened…and Julia was now convinced that she herself would never have the same opportunity.

"Perhaps not, but I _am_ denying this, and I will continue to deny it, because I had no intention of doing it _before_ it happened. Not until the spell was cast…and I refuse to be held accountable for something that was beyond my control." He crossed his arms determinedly and gave Julia a hard look. "You've had spells cast on you, Julia; they have made you do things _you_ wouldn't ordinarily do, either. Correct?"

Julia couldn't deny it; she nodded.

"That was the case with me," he reiterated. "And that is the truth, whether you believe me or not."

"All right, I'm sorry. I believe you—but how do you think Roxanne is going to take this? If you think _I_ was difficult to convince…"

Barnabas held up a hand. "I know—but all I can do is tell her the truth."

"And it's up to her whether or not to believe you," Julia finished. "When and how are you going to tell her?"

"Probably in my next letter," he replied.

"Isn't this something you should tell her face-to-face?" Julia asked.

"It will sound every bit as far-fetched whether I tell her in person or in a letter," Barnabas reminded her.

"I suppose so," Julia conceded. "Which is why you had best tell her right away."

It wasn't something Barnabas was looking forward to, for obvious reasons, but it was necessary, so he bade Julia goodbye, then headed home to the Old House and his study to do his duty.

It was some time before Barnabas could even begin to get his thoughts down on paper or even attempt to explain what had happened six weeks ago. Specifically, how Angelique had finally managed to become pregnant. He was finding that even as difficult as it may have seemed to have tried to explain it to Julia, it was even more so where Roxanne was concerned. With them, it had only required one night of passion to engender a child; with Angelique, it had required a spell on both him and herself.

He wouldn't blame her if she considered his story far-fetched, but with her psychic ability, Roxanne should be able to sense his sincerity simply by touching his letter to her. He had managed to think to ask his wife if there were any necessary conditions for the spell to work…and she had said that she would have to live as a mortal woman for the duration of her pregnancy—with all the risks that entailed. She had obviously considered becoming a mother worth the possible risks to herself…and despite his lingering distrust of her, that impressed him.

But his main concern was Roxanne possibly considering him at least partially willing for it to have been so easy to be put under Angelique's spell. He knew how powerful the latter's spells could be, that the recipient of same would be compelled to do or say what the spell-caster wished, regardless of their personal wishes. He knew he had not initially been willing, particularly since he had had no idea what she was planning at the time, but it wouldn't have changed anything even if he _had_ known.

He told Roxanne all this and more, ending with the following, "…at least Rose won't have to grow up an only child. She will have a sibling." At the same time, he couldn't help wondering what kind of sibling, since Angelique's child was likely to end up either a witch or a warlock, if she had any say in the matter…and he knew she would. She had even said regarding their three-day rendezvous that he had not been that passionate since their liaison in Martinique. As far as that went, she could have cast a spell on him then as well. But that was irrelevant now. What mattered most to him was that he managed to convince Roxanne.

After a time, Barnabas decided to ask Roxanne a question which had been bothering him for some time—just how Lamar Trask had reacted to the news of her pregnancy and the knowledge of whose child she was carrying. (They were sitting in the parlor on the loveseat in Randall Drew's home during his latest visit to New York; the baby was sleeping in her nearby bassinet.)

"Does it really matter at this late date? What matters is that we're together now and that we have our beautiful little girl," Roxanne pointed out.

"I wish to know," Barnabas said simply. "Don't worry; I won't ask again."

"Very well," she sighed. "I was about five months along, just beginning to show, when Lamar came back again. Where he was all that time, I neither know nor care…but when he saw me, he asked what had happened. I told him that I was pregnant, but that it was none of his affair who the father was or how it had come about—although he guessed almost immediately that it was you. In which case, he then decided that it was best to terminate our relationship. He didn't say it, but I'm convinced that I was no longer acceptable marriage material to him…in essence, damaged goods—and he hasn't bothered me since, which suits me perfectly. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes; thank you."

A moment later Randall's housekeeper came in, a telegram in hand. "Mr. Collins, a telegram for you," she informed him, holding it out so he could take it. She turned on her heel and left once he had done so. He then opened the telegram and read it silently, then exchanged a questioning look with Roxanne.

"What does it say, Barnabas?" she asked.

"My wife is in hospital; Julia is summoning me home. Valerie went into labor this morning and there are complications. Julia says she has done all she can; even gotten her hospitalized—and she underwent an emergency Caesarean section. However, my wife hemorrhaged heavily and they don't expect her to live through the night. Julia says that Valerie told her that she must speak with me regarding our child before it's too late. I must return to her immediately."

"I want to go with you," Roxanne declared.

"There's no time for that," he told her regretfully. He again summoned the housekeeper.

"Yes, sir?" she asked.

"Please call for a carriage, then pack my things; I must return home directly."

"Yes, sir," Emma McElroy returned obediently, then disappeared again.

"I'm still coming," Roxanne insisted.

"Then do so," Barnabas sighed. "But we cannot go together. I will give you the details as soon as I can."

"Where is your wife hospitalized?"

"I would assume at Wyndcliff in Bangor, since it is the nearest fully-equipped hospital."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Roxanne promised. "You're going to need moral and emotional support, and I have a feeling that Julia is going to be too busy to give it to you—at least for a while."

He didn't want to admit it, but knew she was right. "Then I will see you and Rose—Randall, too, if possible, as soon as you can arrive. We may need a lawyer to decide the disposition of my new child if Valerie dies."

"If we get married, it would be easier to get custody," she pointed out.

"Perhaps. We will deal with that when the time comes," he told her.

"Mr. Collins, the carriage is here and your baggage is being loaded onto it now," Mrs. McElroy said.

"Thank you," he told her before giving Roxanne a quick kiss. "Come as quickly as you can, my darling. I must go now."

"I will," she assured him. "Safe journey, beloved."

He smiled at her one last time, then was gone. She then turned to Mrs. McElroy. "Emma, pack my things and those of little Rose—then contact my brother and inform him of my plans… and that he may need to accompany us to Bangor."

"Yes, Miss Roxanne," the housekeeper acknowledged.

"Also, have your husband prepare Randall's carriage for us as quickly as possible," she ordered.

"Yes, Miss," came the reply. "I will inform you when all is in readiness."

"Thank you, Emma. Rose and I will be waiting."

When Barnabas arrived at Wyndcliff some hours later, he found Julia waiting for him in the hospital lobby. She brightened upon seeing him. "Barnabas, thank God you're here! There's no time to lose. Angelique is fading fast, but she insists on speaking with you. Follow me, quickly." She turned on her heel and headed back toward the rear of the building, part of which housed the Intensive Care Unit of the small but well-equipped hospital.

He was stunned when he reached his wife's side. Her sunken face was already taking on the waxy look of approaching death, even though there was a bottle of whole blood attached to her left arm. He sat down beside her, taking her weak right hand in his. She gave him a wan imitation of a smile upon seeing him; an attentive nurse stood by, watching and listening.

"Barnabas, my husband…" Her voice was barely a whisper; he had to strain to catch it.

"Valerie…" he returned quietly. "Don't try to talk. Conserve your strength."

"No…must…speak to you…" she insisted. "Promise me…our son…"

"What about our son?" he asked gently.

"Name him…Jean-Pierre…my father's name…" Her eyes closed in pain and her breathing became even shallower than it already was.

"Anything else?" he prompted.

"…assume you…intend…to remarry…"

Barnabas looked up at Julia, unsure of whether or not to answer and if so, how much to admit. He finally nodded.

"…Roxanne?" she whispered.

He nodded again. She closed her eyes, taking a last breath before speaking for the final time. "Very well…I…give the…two of…you…custody. But…"

"But what?"

"My…name…on…birth certifi…cate…" She spoke determinedly, knowing death was moments away. "And I…want you…to know…always loved…you, how…ever…it…may have… seemed."

Angelique then lapsed into silence and her grip slackened. Julia checked her pulse and said, "She's gone, Barnabas. Do you know if she left a will?"

"With her—powers, Valerie didn't feel the need for one," Barnabas replied. "However, she gave me a…letter shortly after her pregnancy was confirmed, spelling out her wishes regarding her possessions—and our son—in detail. It should suffice."

"Do you have it?"

"I know where it is," he revealed.

"Then we must read it as soon as possible," Julia declared. "What did Roxanne say when you told her?"

"Not here," Barnabas returned in a stage-whisper, mindful of the nurse's presence. "But I _will_ say that she is on her way here now, with Rose and possibly her brother, to take care of the necessary legal work."

Julia nodded in acknowledgment. "Do you know when they're due to arrive?"

"Some hours from now. I told her we would be here, so it is best that we remain until she and the others arrive."

"I imagine she'll be pleased when you tell her Angelique gave you permission to remarry," Julia opined as they left the hospital room and the nurse to her next duties, making sure only Barnabas could hear her.

"No doubt," her companion agreed, still both pleased and surprised, not to mention understandably wary. But as if reading his thoughts, she said, "Dying people don't lie."

He still was only half-convinced, but didn't argue with her. Once the death certificate had been signed and issued by the Bangor City Coroner, Barnabas and Julia began making plans for the funeral and discussed what they intended to do with his and Angelique's newborn son, Jean-Pierre Collins. He had been named per her wishes, and her name was placed on the birth certificate as follows: "Valerie Bouchard Collins." If anyone questioned it, Barnabas planned to simply say, "My first wife's background was French," and leave it at that.

They became so occupied with making funeral arrangements and such that it took the Head Nurse's intentionally loud voice to get their attention. "Mr. Collins, Dr. Collins!" she called impatiently, obviously having repeated herself several times.

Barnabas finally lifted his head and turned to face her. "I'm sorry; we've been preoccupied. What did you want to say?"

"There is a young lady and gentleman here to see you. The young lady is holding a baby girl about one year old. She said her name was Roxanne Drew, and that she was a…close friend of yours."

"Yes, yes, send them in," Barnabas urged; the nurse withdrew. A moment later Roxanne and Randall entered, baby Rose cradled in her mother's arms. "Roxanne, my darling," Barnabas greeted her, coming toward her to kiss her briefly, then leaned down to kiss little Rose's forehead. He marveled at how beautiful his daughter was; she was looking more like her mother every day!

"Barnabas, beloved," Roxanne acknowledged. "What's the latest on Valerie?"

"She is dead," he told her solemnly. "She died four hours ago; a result of complications following the birth of our son."

"I'm sorry," she returned automatically.

"It's all right. She is at peace now, and what is more, she has given us permission to marry and raise her son as our own."

Once it sunk in, Roxanne moved into her lover's arms and they kissed again. "That's wonderful. What's the baby's name?"

"Jean-Pierre. Valerie wished him to be named for her father, who was of French descent," Barnabas supplied. "I could not deny her last wish."

"Of course not," Roxanne agreed. "So when did you want to get married?"

"Within the next three months," Barnabas told her. "There must be a decent interval after Valerie's death."

"What then? Do Rose and I move in with you and your son at the Old House or what?"

"That is one possibility," Barnabas acknowledged. "We may also buy a home of our own in New York…then we can tell your family—and the rest of mine—about you and Rose. It should be safe enough now."

This was when Randall broke in. "Roxy said you would need some legal advice."

"Oh yes," Barnabas agreed.

"What exactly do you need to discuss…other than your upcoming marriage to my sister?" Randall smiled knowingly at first Barnabas, then Roxanne, who lowered her head and blushed prettily.

"Making the arrangements for Valerie's funeral and having the reading of her–will."

"That should be no problem," Randall assured him. "Where do you intend to bury her?"

"In the Collins family vault. We shall discuss the rest of our plans when we reach Collinsport and the Old House," Barnabas decided. "For the time being, let us simply go have dinner. Little Jean-Pierre will not be released from hospital for two more days."

"Very well," Randall agreed; Roxanne smiled, agreed and handed little Rose to Julia before taking Barnabas' arm and the group headed out of the hospital on their way to dinner.

While they were out, Barnabas officially proposed marriage to Roxanne and the happy couple were officially congratulated by both their companions and the other patrons of the restaurant–not as fancy as "21", but the best Bangor could offer. He had presented her with his mother Naomi's engagement ring, a one-carat square-cut diamond in a gold Tiffany setting with a dozen tiny diamonds surrounding the larger stone. He kissed Roxanne tenderly after slipping it on her left ring finger.

"Roxanne, my darling, will you make me the happiest man in the world and do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Roxanne's eyes filled with tears of joy. "Yes, beloved. A thousand times yes!"

The others applauded and cheered at his action. It was the hardest thing Julia Hoffman had ever had to do, but what mattered was that she was a part of Barnabas' life, even if it wasn't precisely in the manner she had originally intended. She had even been designated godmother for little Jean-Pierre as well as Rose. Thanks to him, her future was secure; what mattered now was making sure that both of Barnabas' children were healthy and happy.

The next three months were the happiest any of them had ever known, with the possible exception of Julia Hoffman, even though she was now the official Collins family physician…or at least of Barnabas Collins' family. The funeral of Valerie Bouchard Collins was quiet and subdued, flower-filled and beautiful, and she was properly interred in the family vault with all who had known her and could make it in attendance.

Julia carried baby Jean-Pierre; Randall was seated next to his younger sister and Roxanne sat next to Barnabas, pretty in her black dress and veil, the pair holding hands for the duration of the service. Little Rose alternated between the arms of her proud Aunt Samantha, who was attending with her husband, Barnabas' cousin Quentin, and grandfather J. Leonard. Both found their relatives-to-be warm and charming, and made sure to get pictures made of all of them together. Roxanne's sister and father were both ecstatic at her upcoming wedding to the man she truly loved, Barnabas Collins, particularly the fact that she would be mother to his two children.

Roxanne had even asked Sam to be Matron of Honor and J. Leonard would naturally be walking his youngest and favorite daughter down the aisle, proud that she had not only chosen old money and a respected name, but someone she truly loved. Barnabas had chosen his cousin to be his best man. Once all the legal work was signed, sealed and delivered, Julia and Barnabas thought it would be a good idea to consider returning to 1971 via Quentin's staircase.

After the wedding and once over the shock, Roxanne Elizabeth Drew Collins agreed readily to accompany her new husband back to his own time, considering it a "marvelous" idea to actually be going to live in a time over a century in the future. Both Julia and Barnabas told her as much as they thought best so as to prepare her, warn her of what to expect. Roxanne assured them it would take some getting used to, but that she should do fine with their help.

They also offered Randall and the rest of Roxanne's family the opportunity to accompany them, also telling them as much as they deemed safe, but even though it would be very difficult to see her and the children go, Sam and J. Leonard knew that Roxanne's place was with her husband and children. Sam could not bear to leave Quentin or their son Tad, and J. Leonard, a product of the 18th century, believed that he would have been out of place, even archaic, in the 20th century. All the same, he would grieve at being unable to see his grandchildren grow up (yes, he even considered Jean-Pierre his grandson, since his daughter would be the boy's legal mother).

Randall, on the other hand, decided to accompany them, declaring that he would need to update his legal knowledge, but otherwise should be able to adapt to the 20th century relatively easily. He would also need to sell his practice and New York home, but once that was done, there would be little to keep him in 1841. Besides, at least one blood relative should be with Roxy to keep an eye on her and her new family.

Both would take pictures of their father and older sister with them, but other than that they would have little but memories and certain personal mementos of their loved ones. The pair from the future had a long talk with the 1841 Quentin and Barnabas gave him a letter he had written which would hopefully explain his, Julia's and the others' disappearance in the event anyone inquired about them, instructing Quentin to send copies to whoever asked about them. That was the most he could do for them.

Once Roxanne and Randall had wrapped up their affairs, they packed their bags but with only necessities; Barnabas assured them that they would be replaced as soon as possible upon their arrival in 1971. It was likely that they would need to update their years of birth, among other things—not to mention those of their children. Roxanne was even told that she and Barnabas could remarry upon adapting to 1971 if she wanted to.

She said she would consider it, but for the time being, she would be too busy getting used to the 20th century lifestyle… and things like mini-dresses, bikinis and long hair on men and boys; TV, automobiles and jet airplanes; T-shirts, blue jeans and telephones—most of which were either science fiction or unheard of in 1841. None of them, however, had any idea what this new year or new century held in store, but knew that they would manage as long as they had each other.

Barnabas and Roxanne eventually did decide to remarry once she got used to the 20th century, and as Angelique had wished, they would raise the children together. If he hadn't met Roxanne, Barnabas knew that it was likely that he would have eventually married Julia, but since he had, he gave her all the affection he could within the limits of their friendship. They would never know exactly what the 1841 Quentin had thought, how he had felt, but just wait until they told the 1971 version! Who knew, maybe even Randall would find someone special in this time—not to mention Julia—but meanwhile, they had their lives to lead and children to raise.

EPILOGUE:

As for Angelique, due to the unselfishness of her last acts on Earth, which made up—at least in part—for all the Hell she had put Barnabas and his family through, she was granted eternal life in Heaven. Although her heart ached that she would not be there to personally supervise her son's rearing, she knew that Barnabas and his new bride would give the boy a good home and raise him with equal amounts of love and discipline…knowing when to back off and when to be protective. Or at least they would, to the best of their ability—both for now and as long as they both lived.

THE END

40


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